


Cinderella - Her Name on Your Lips

by LaBelladoneX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 13:44:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelladoneX/pseuds/LaBelladoneX
Summary: He swore to never let her go. She so desperately wanted to believe him. An oath, a curse, a love lost and found."The girl wanted remain forever in that moment; her heart breaking with regret, knowing this fairytale would be shattered in hours. But, in those few moments, she resolved to live a lifetime. Her lips softly brushed against his..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Cinderella (Strictly Dramione's Moviefest 2017)  
> Author's Note: I used Google Translate for everything so, if the grammar is incorrect, it is entirely Google's fault ;)  
> I have no connection to the Potterverse except for my love of Dramione fan fiction and the firm belief that Draco and Hermione were meant to be. Alas, J.K. Rowling and I will never agree on this point. On a happier note, I do own a rather cool Slytherin keyring.
> 
> Lots of Alpha love to coyg81, Beta hearts to kikakanyume7 and withered (who helped me sleep again!) and grammar love to Mr. Benzedrine. And where would we be without our aesthetic beauty safewordisdevilsnare?
> 
> I also have a Pinterest page and a Spotify playlist to accompany this story, the links are as follows:  
> www.pinterest.ie/racheljane1718/cinderella-fan-fiction-prompt/  
> open.spotifyuser/rj1718/playlist/5p0WI1inm32XR5G85UAbXG  
> Some of the songs on the Spotify playlist are relevant to the story, others are just in keeping with the theme and too bloody good to ignore.

 

July 25th, 1980

Narcissa Malfoy curled up on the chaise, her seven-week-old baby asleep in her arms. Her husband of one year, Lucius, stood with his back to her by the large Georgian window, gazing down upon once-beautiful lawns, dried-up fountains, and the decaying carcasses of slaughtered game. Both adults wore tear-stained faces as the infant twitched peacefully in his mother’s arms.

“Lucius, we need to do something.”

“I would like to approach The Order, Cissa. Would you agree?”

“It is our only option at this point but we cannot wait much longer. I cannot live like this much longer.”

Lucius turned to his wife and looked directly into her shining eyes. In another life, her pale blue eyes would be hazel and his son would have a different woman’s nose and fingers. In turn, Narcissa thought of the man she once loved with a passion that still smoldered deep within. In her ideal world, Draco would have dark brown hair and eyes of deepest blue. Both young adults understood each other thoughts and smiled sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Cissa.”

“It is not your fault. It was never your fault. We were abused and raped, Lucius, both of us! I will not have our son reared in this world. We must escape!”

Lucius turned back to the window, not wanting to see the pain in his wife’s face anymore. One year ago, life had been exciting and eventful until their parents fell in line with a maniac who wanted to rule the wizarding world with pure-blood supremacy. A bonding agreement was made between Maison Noble et la plus Ancienne de Malfoy and the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black resulting in his arranged marriage to Narcissa. The two people they each loved were taken away, never to be seen or heard of again. Their first night together as husband and wife was watched by the Dark Lord as he relished in their coupling. He watched every time until Narcissa fell pregnant. It was sick; he was sick.

Draco Lucius Malfoy was born without incident and their deranged houseguest announced he would take the boy to raise himself once the infant’s weaning period was over. He gave Narcissa three months.

“Cissa,” Lucius began, his shoulders slumped with fatigue and distress. “I will not give up our son. I know you won’t either. We will go to the Order; I’ll make plans.”

He knelt in front of the softly-weeping woman and gently placed a hand upon her own. Placing a loving kiss to his son’s forehead, he looked up at her.

“I know we do not love each other. It breaks my heart to think that Esther and Thomas were taken and probably murdered.” He gripped her hand tightly as she flinched at the name of her lost love. “But, Cissa, I promise we will raise this child away from him. We will be a family and I hope, really hope, we can make this work.”

Narcissa raised her other hand to cup Lucius’ cheek; he closed his eyes as her thumb wiped away a stray tear.

“It will work. We’ll get out of here, Lucius. Contact the Order, as soon as you can. Let us escape and raise our son together in a home of respect and happiness. Who knows what may happen…” She let the remainder of the sentence fade from her lips. “But there is something I want to do now.”

“Name it.”

“I do not want Draco to ever experience what we have suffered; I want him to feel and know love.” She held her sleeping son to her breast. “I spent a lot of time in the library during my pregnancy, just to stay out of his way, and I came across a book of Celtic spells. I want to protect our boy, Lucius, that goes without saying but I am desperate for him to have what we have not had so far - a happy life. Regardless of what happens to you and me, I need him to know that. There is a spell which will guide him to his true love and guarantee him joy in this life. Please Lucius, let me cast it.”

“I want nothing but happiness for our son, Cissa. Do it when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

Lucius smiled. “How could I think otherwise? What do I need to do?”

“Hold Draco, please?”

He stood and she passed the sleeping baby to his arms. Lucius looked down at the innocent and held him close.

“Your mother is a very clever witch, my son. She is promising you a happy life, you deserve that much from us.”

Narcissa uncurled her legs and stood beside her husband. She reached into her robes and retrieved her wand, pointing it at their baby boy.

Beidh a fhios agat grá  
Beidh a fhios agat áthas  
A ainm tugtha ar do liopaí  
Séalaigh do ghrá go deo

You will know love  
You will know joy  
Her given name on your lips  
Will seal your love forever

She waved her wand gently over the infant, bathing him in rose pink light, before looking up at her husband.

“Thank you.”

He smiled tenderly at her, placing an arm around her shoulders. To anyone looking on, the family of three looked peaceful and carefree.

The following morning, Lucius made contact with the Order of the Phoenix and plans were set to extract the family from Malfoy Manor as soon as possible.

Six days later, however, the Dark Lord was no more and Harry Potter was the saviour of the wizarding world.


	2. Chapter 2

4th December 1998

Marianne Greengrass sat by the conservatory window, sipping Lapsang Souchong from a slightly chipped china cup. She sighed, more with frustration than sadness, as she looked around the room at the cracked floor tiles and peeling wallpaper. There were no house elves to maintain the crumbling mansion and she would die rather than perform menial tasks such as house repair; preparing her own meals was bad enough.

Her eyes landed on the Daily Prophet, folded neatly on the sofa beside her. She slammed the cup down onto the saucer, causing the latter to fracture and the handle to separate from the cup. Her irritation accelerated to anger within seconds as she suddenly stood and knocked the tea tray over in her haste to exit the room. 

Entering her study, she paced in front of the empty fireplace as her scheming mind went into overdrive.

Her stupid husband had backed the wrong hippogriff during the Second Wizarding War, splinching himself to death trying to apparate through protective wards designed by that bitch, Granger. Idiot. Following the demise of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, Marianne was allowed to keep Greengrass Estate but her vaults were vastly diminished and her lack of ability to save or budget was only causing more financial distress. But the thing that almost killed her with inner rage were the faces on the front of the newspaper she still grasped in her long fingers - the Malfoys.

Time had been kind to the parents but the son - well, he was a vision to behold; tall, blond, athletic, with eyes like stormy seas. Witches fell at his feet, both young and old, but he remained single. The family were the darlings of the wizarding world due to their chosen positions as double agents before, and during, the Second Wizarding War. Once that information was published following the ultimate defeat of the Dark Lord, the public welcomed them with open arms. Pictures of Draco, his best friends Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, and his fellow Aurors Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom were frequently in the papers as the group of friends played Quidditch weekly, drinking afterwards at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Marianne realised suddenly that the solution to her problems lay right in front of her - the Malfoy heir. His financial future was secured by the ownership of both Malfoy and Black vaults and access to his galleons would keep her in comfort for a very, very long time. True, the Nott and Zabini vaults were quite full themselves (the families having stayed away from the Dark Lord and his pure-blood delusions) but they were nowhere near the Malfoy prize. 

A gloriously devious plan began to formulate and she laughed out loud at the simplicity. Leaving her study, she made her way to her room to retrieve her travelling cloak.

“Mother, are you going out?” 

“I’m planning to call at Malfoy Manor, Astoria. You can prepare the dinner for yourself and Daphne, I expect to be invited to stay.”

“Not tonight, you won’t,” her youngest daughter remarked. “Have you read today’s newspaper?”

In her haste to scheme within the walls of her study, Marianne had not read the article about the Malfoys; the picture alone had had her up and pacing. She took a deep breath before continuing onto her bedroom. 

“Best get started with dinner, Astoria, I shall be down in thirty minutes.”

The young dark-haired beauty groaned inwardly before making her way down to the kitchen to prepare another barely edible meal.

Marianne sat heavily on the ottoman at the end of her bed, shivering slightly from the dampness in the room, before turning to the front page of the daily newspaper. 

HIGHEST HONOURS TO BE PRESENTED TO THE MALFOY FAMILY

The Order of Merlin, First Class, will be awarded to Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy tonight to celebrate their brave actions before and during the Second Wizarding War which saw the ultimate downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

The Award will be presented by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and our beloved heroine, Hermione Granger, will host the evening at the esteemed Hotel Delacroix. 

The Daily Prophet will have an exclusive feature tomorrow along with pictures and interviews.

Well, she would just have to wait twenty four hours before, hopefully, eating a decent meal.  
.

The following morning saw Marianne sitting alone in the dining room. Astoria and her elder sister had left to visit friends and weren’t expected back until evening.

“At least they’ll have a nice lunch,” Marianne muttered to herself.

Tapping at the nearest window announced the arrival of the Daily Prophet so she rose promptly to let the courier owl in. Dropping the newspaper into her hand, and collecting a knut for its service, the bird hooted politely before soaring gracefully onto its next destination. Spreading the newspaper out in front of her, Marianne almost lost her breath.

“No, no, no,” she cried, collapsing back down on her chair before gritting her teeth in fury. “Not her, he will not have her!”

DRACO MALFOY IN LOVE?

Yes, readers, you have read the headline correctly. The heir to Houses Malfoy and Black was the centre of all female attention last night as he gracefully, and most humbly, accepted his Order of Merlin, First Class, from the Minister of Magic. His parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, stood alongside him to receive their awards for services to the Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry of Magic, and the entire wizarding world. But the highlight of the night was the dance he shared with our Golden Girl, Hermione Granger. Onlookers commented on the way the two, dare we say, lovers gazed into each other’s eyes as they glided effortlessly across the floor. The ceremony, which was held at the luxurious Hotel Delacroix, was a resounding success with the once-misunderstood family now firmly ensconced in our hearts. Ms. Granger had nothing but praise for her colleague as she addressed the audience prior to the official ceremony:

“As you all know, Malfoy and I had a rather colourful relationship during our Hogwarts years. Harry, Ron, and I genuinely believed he was a follower of Voldemort and the fact he willingly accepted the Dark Mark only fuelled our suspicions. It is now widely known that I referred to him as a ‘foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach’ before breaking his nose in our third year. (She paused here as the audience broke into laughter, including the three recipients.) You cannot imagine our shock when Minister Shacklebolt approached us after the Battle of Hogwarts and explained the Malfoys’ role in the downfall of Voldemort, following his return in 1991. Today - and I know I speak for Harry and Ron here too - today, we are in awe of this silent hero for all he had to do at school to maintain his persona. He played his part so well, there was no way we could have known he fought, along with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, for our secure future. 

We now work side by side, as friends. Malfoy is one of the finest Aurors I have ever known and I would trust him with my life. (A loud ‘hear, hear’ was shouted out by Harry Potter at this point.) He is a role model for us all and I-I am proud to know him.” 

Did we notice a slight wobble in her voice towards the end? This reporter thinks there is more to this relationship than just workplace camaraderie. Watch this space readers!

For more pictures, along with an interview with Narcissa Malfoy, turn to pages four through twelve.

Marianne dashed to her study, whistling on her way for her horned owl. It was dispatched with two hastily written notes and she spent the next hour preparing. By the time her first reply was received, her new, and even more Machiavellian, plan was in place.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mari, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?” Narcissa welcome her visitor with open arms. “Would you like tea?”

“I am very well, Cissa, thank you,” Marianne lied. “Tea would be lovely.”

Narcissa called for Pippy, her house elf, who promptly appeared with a pot of Earl Grey tea, slices of lemon, and homemade ginger snaps. They were served with Staffordshire bone china (no chips). 

“Cissa, I must admit I am here for a specific reason. I wish to hold a ball at the Greengrass Estate,” Marianne paused for effect. “A Sacris Pura.”

Narcissa’s hand trembled slightly as she lowered her tea cup. 

“Marianne, you cannot be serious! The Sacred Twenty Eight are not honoured anymore, times have changed!”

“Narcissa, I am not doing this for sinister reasons. I wish my daughters to marry pure-blood wizards only and this ball will ensure they meet appropriate suitors. Perhaps, Draco would…”

She was cut off immediately as the other woman raised her hand.

“No, that will not happen. We will not enter into negotiations for an arranged marriage. Draco will marry for love, and love only, Mari. Lucius and I made that pact when he was an infant. Our decision stands.”

Marianne cursed inwardly before resorting to an alternative.

“Very well, please excuse my forwardness. I only want the best husbands for Daphne and Astoria. I am sure you feel the same regarding a future daughter-in-law.”

Narcissa practically beamed and a wave of pure envy swept through her guest.

“The wars changed us, Marianne. We have seen things that… oh, enough! That is in the past. We swore Draco would be happy and, if last night is anything to go by, he is well on his way to finding happiness.”

“Surely, you don’t mean that mud - muggleborn? What would your ancestors think, Cissa? How can Lucius agree to this?”

Narcissa frowned at Mari’s slip. “As I said, we want Draco’s happiness. It is all we ask. If she is his choice, then she will be welcomed here with open arms and grateful smiles. You may not agree, Mari, but we will support our son.”

“I apologise…”

“Not at all. Now, I understand your reasoning behind holding the ball. May I be blunt?”

“Of course.”

“The Greengrass Estate is old; we have more than enough room here to host a ball. In fact, the Flower Ball will be held here in three month’s time.”

“You are too kind, Cissa, but I want the ball to be held at my home. That is why I am here. May I have some of your elves to help prepare the Estate? I should have asked you before this but pride is a terrible thing, is it not?”

Kind, and surprisingly gullible, Narcissa leaned over and grasped her hand. “We would be delighted to help. Do your daughters know the traditions?”

“Oh, yes. We taught them when they were young. Thank you for your kindness, Cissa.” Standing up to take her leave, Marianne inclined her head gracefully towards her hostess. 

Next stop, Knockturn Alley.  
.

“Was that Marianne Greengrass leaving?”

Narcissa turned from the large bay window that overlooked the vast Malfoy Estate. Her heart filled with happiness every time she looked down at the flourishing gardens and gushing fountains. They were her pride and joy and she spent many afternoons pottering around with her secateurs, swinging her trug like a child. 

“Yes, my love. She came over for tea.”

Lucius strode towards his wife, encasing her in his arms and kissing her soundly.

“She ruined my surprise. I was on my way to fetch you when Pippy told me you had a visitor.”

Narcissa wrapped her arms around his neck, twirling his blond locks in her fingers. She smiled up at the man whom she had grown to love fiercely and passionately over the years.

“What surprise did you have in store for me?” 

He leaned down to whisper softly in her ear.

“My study, your favourite scented candles, that sheepskin rug that I love to lie you naked on…”

Narcissa’s breath caught as arousal rushed through her. 

“Ahem…” 

Turning swiftly, the older love birds spotted their son leaning against the doorframe. He could barely suppress his laughter. 

“Seriously? At your age?”

“Draco!”

“Son, em…”

It was not often that Lucius Malfoy was stuck for words.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Draco smiled, pushing himself away from the frame. “I’m only here to ask a favour.”

Narcissa regained her composure before walking towards her son. Opening her arms, he stepped into her embrace.

“Anything, my love.”

“I want to invite Granger for dinner, here, tonight. But, just us. I-I want to tell her-”

Despite all the trials and tribulations the three of them had gone through over the past seven years, his parents had never seen Draco so nervous. Narcissa turned to look at her husband, remembering back to the night she cast the spell. He nodded and walked towards the two people he would give up his life for.

“She will be most welcome, Son. We will have dinner in our room and remain there for the evening. I would wish you luck but, judging by the way you two danced last night, I don’t think you will need it.” 

He proffered his hand for his son to shake. Draco took it gratefully before kissing his mother on both cheeks.

“Thank you.”

Following their son’s departure, Lucius Malfoy grasped his wife by the hand and apparated them to his study. His swift wand work had her exactly where he wanted her - naked on the sheepskin rug.  
.

Hermione arrived home from a lunch date with Ginny to find the most beautiful snowy owl perched on her kitchen windowsill.

“Hi there, I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she smiled, moving over to the bird and removing a small roll of parchment from its leg. The owl hooted twice and flapped its wings.

“You need a reply, do you? Well, okay then. Have a nibble first.”

She placed a small bowl of owl treats and some water in front of the little bird before unrolling the parchment.

Granger

Would you like to join me for dinner this evening, at the Manor? I understand if you never want to set foot in this house again but, I assure you, the rooms in question have been gutted and cleansed of all dark magic. 7pm? Please?

Malfoy

She smiled down at the piece of paper before running her fingers across the dried ink; across his handwriting. Hermione knew, deep within her soul, how strongly she felt about Draco Malfoy. She was so emotional the night before during her speech; all he had done so she, and the others muggleborns and half-bloods, could live in peace. It made her heart soar to think he might feel the same about her. Could he?

The snowy owl landed gently on Draco’s arm a short time later.

Malfoy

You have assured me many times that Malfoy Manor has changed beyond all recognition. I believe you!!!!! I will be there at 7pm.

Granger

Draco stood up from his desk and called for his house elf. In an instant, the tiniest creature appeared at his feet, barely reaching his knee. Smiling kindly, he bent down.

“She’s agreed to come to dinner, Bunty. Can you get everything ready?”

Bunty jumped up and down, clapping her hands, and squealing with delight.

“Yes, yes, yes, Master Draco. Everything will be perfect, Bunty promises!”

The funny little creature threw herself at her master, hugging his leg, before apparating away to the kitchen. 

Draco laughed out loud before heading to the library.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pieces Draco plays are “Krwlng” and “If You’re Not The One” by Myleene Klass.

“This yells slut! That one screams desperate,” Hermione wailed. “I have nothing to bloody wear!”

Ginny Potter, Lavender Brown, and Luna Lovegood-Longbottom all sat around Hermione’s bedroom as clothes were ripped from hangers and flung around the room. 

“He’s in love with you,” Luna interjected. “He won’t notice your clothes.”

The other three rounded on her.

“Are you serious?”

“This is Malfoy!”

“...practically oozes fashion sense…”

For some bizarre reason, the first part of her sentence was completely overlooked.

The wailing continued as Ginny took matters into her own hands. 

“Hermione, take out the grey dress.”

“I wore that at Christmas.”

“Yes, but Malfoy hasn’t seen you in it. Put it on, I’ll make some adjustments.”

Hermione looked at the other two girls for support. They both nodded so, with a sigh, she stepped into the knee length dress.

A swish and flick later, Hermione was standing in a completely transformed dress, with gunmetal grey pumps. The flared skirt accentuated her long, slim legs and the bodice was adorned with tiny crystals that clung to the satin and sheer materials. The bateau neckline highlighted her slender neck that Lavender was convinced would send Malfoy into sexual overdrive. Hermione pretended to be shocked but the butterflies in her stomach had escaped and were now doing a conga around her chest, giving her the giggles. 

Thirty minutes later, she was standing beside her fireplace. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun and her makeup minimal. Anyone with eyes could tell Hermione Granger was a stunningly attractive witch but her brains frightened wizards away. Malfoy was the first man to match her wit and intelligence; she prayed to Merlin that perhaps... 

“What if-” she started.

“Won’t happen.” 

“No chance!”

“It’s just seven, now go!”

“I love you guys, wish me luck!”

With that, Hermione stepped into the Floo and called out her destination.  
.

“The hour is nearly seven, Master Draco. Miss Granger will be here soon. Bunty can’t wait!”

The little elf, with her endless energy, bounced up and down.

“Well, let’s go and greet our guest,” Draco smiled, trying desperately to hide the nerves that had just dived straight into a mosh pit. 

The mismatched companions arrived at the main Floo just as Hermione stepped out. Upon seeing her, Draco could only swallow; no words would come out of his mouth. Her dress was exquisite, her face was...oh, she was beautiful, simply beautiful.

Their visitor glanced shyly down before raising her eyes to meet his. He was dressed in black, no surprise there, but he owned that colour. Hermione suddenly realised his eyes were the same colour as her dress (clever girl, Gin!) Were they always that dark? Or was that…?

Still neither of them spoke and so it was up to the tiniest house elf that ever existed to save the day.

“Miss Hermione! You are really here! Bunty really, really loves your dress.”

Hermione smiled at Draco before kneeling down before the little creature.

“Hello Bunty. I’m delighted you like my dress. I think your little tutu is really fetching; pink is definitely your colour.”

Bunty nearly fainted.

“I also like your dress.” Draco reached out his hand. Hermione slipped her hand into his and stood, looking up into his eyes and forgetting to move her hand away. He didn’t seem to notice either.

In that moment, every atom in the entire universe ceased to exist. Two people stood alone in the world; a modern day Adam and Eve. It was time for both of them to trust, to let go, and suddenly they found themselves leaning slightly towards each other -

“Master Draco! Dinner! Bunty has everything ready!”

Draco blinked before regaining his senses and reluctantly turned away from Hermione’s hypnotic eyes. Merlin, he wanted to get lost in them!

“Thank you, Bunty. Lead the way.”  
.

Dinner was served in a small parlour situated on the south side of the Manor, away from the formal dining room. Although Hermione had assured Draco of her comfort, he was still too raw inside about that fateful night when Bellatrix almost destroyed his beautiful witch. 

As they ate the most delicious roast beef, Hermione commented on the drastic changes that had occurred within the Manor’s walls; how the newly decorated colour schemes of cream and gold complemented the more inviting furniture that replaced the formally austere pieces. Draco explained how Narcissa was so desperate to exorcise the building of so much dark energy that she insisted the three of them take an active part in knocking down walls and smashing various windows and doors. 

“It was quite...cathartic, I think. I had never seen my parents lift anything other than a quill. To see Narcissa Malfoy with a sledgehammer was a sight to behold, I can assure you. The house elves were in awe!” 

Over crème brûlée (“How did you know this was my favourite, Malfoy?”) and the richest Espresso con Panna Hermione had ever tasted, they began to compare and contrast their upbringings with Draco curious to learn about her time at the muggle school she attended before Hogwarts. Over three hours past and the two were still sitting at the small table sipping Bordeaux and chatting incessantly. 

“Would you like another coffee?”

“Perhaps a herbal tea? I don’t want to be climbing the walls at five o’clock in the morning!”

“Mother makes her own rosehip tea, would you like to try it?”

“That would be lovely, Malfoy.”

He opened his mouth to say...nevermind, he’d ask her later. If the rest of the evening went as well, he’d ask for permission to use her given name.   
.

Bunty appeared shortly after to let her Master know Miss Hermione’s tea and his coffee were waiting in the library. Hermione’s eyes lit up. 

“You don’t think I’d invite you to my home and not allow you drool over my family’s vast collection of first editions?” he winked as he continued to tease her. “All those rare texts, those oh-so-valuable scripts, those long forgotten -”

She practically dragged him out the door, laughing as Bunty skipped ahead towards the ornate oak-carved double doors of the Malfoy family library.  
.

Hermione Granger was officially at a loss for words. She stood just inside the door of the vast room, frozen to the spot, before squealing and clapping her hands in delight. If she had been dressed in a pink tutu, she would have reminded Draco of Bunty when his little elf got too excited. He stood back, watching her as she dashed towards the first set of bookshelves, pausing briefly to whip off her shoes before running on in her bared feet. 

“Oh Merlin! Derham’s Dictionary of Diabolical… The Strange Case of…,” she turned to the opposite shelves, “Hawke’s Theories on The Grandfather Paradox? I thought this was out of print! I’ve been looking for a copy since third year!”

Hermione gently retrieved the book from the shelf and, almost reverently, opened the cover.

My dear Draco

May you achieve your heart’s desire in this time. 

Simon Hawke

Hermione read the words aloud before looking over at Draco in astonishment. 

“You knew him?”

“He was Mother’s second cousin, on her mother’s side.”

Hermione repeated the inscription.

“May you achieve your heart’s desire in this time.”

Their eyes met again and Draco began to slowly move towards her. Hermione’s butterflies were practising a new line dancing routine.

“Master Draco! Miss Hermione’s tea will go cold!”  
.

Another bottle of Bordeaux was opened and Bunty was politely, albeit a little forcibly, sent to bed. Hermione was curled up on the couch, reading the introductory pages of the book she never dreamed she would hold in her hands. She was lost in a time of her own when the most beautiful melody began to float throughout the room.

Setting the book down, she noticed Draco was no longer sitting in the armchair opposite her. She stood up, moving slowly towards the sound of piano keys caressing the air around her. 

He sat with his back to her on a long black piano stool; his jacket and tie discarded on top of the highly polished instrument. His sleeves were rolled up and his collar opened, making Hermione gasp at how relaxed and peaceful he looked. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her; the man she knew she had fallen in love with.

The first piece of music was upbeat and engaging, bringing a smile to Hermione’s lips as she listened. The second stirred such emotions within her as he played on; she wanted to be nearer to him, needed to touch him. The feelings almost overpowered her as she moved towards the piano. He glanced up as she came into view, gazing at her with such desire it took her breath away. Slowly she sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder as the piece softly came to an end. He closed the lid over the keys gently.

“Will you stay with me?” A tentative whisper.

“Yes.”  
.

Narcissa had cautiously opened the door to the master suite upon hearing the music coming from the library. She instantly recognised two of Draco’s favourite pieces; it had been so long since he had played and she sighed happily as the music drifted along the corridors to ease her heart. Lucius’ strong arms enveloped her as she allowed tears of joy to flow. Looking around at her love’s face, she saw he too was crying softly.

“Cissa, our son is happy. At last.”  
.

Draco stood from the piano stool and reached out for Hermione’s hand. She took it without hesitation and he raised her fingers to his lips before stepping closer to her. She was tiny without her pumps so, without warning, he lifted her to sit on the side of the piano. Standing within her open legs, he grasped her face and kissed her with every amount of passion he had saved only for her.

Hermione melted into his embrace, her hands moving up his arms and shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. She pulled him closer, opening her mouth wider as he traced his tongue along her lips. Heat swelled within as he reached behind to undo her hair clips, letting the softest chestnut curls cascade down over his arms. Never breaking their passionate kiss, he pulled her over to the edge of the instrument before lifting her directly into his arms. Hermione instantly wrapped her legs around him, feeling her body tremble with desire as he walked her back towards the couch. Twice they stopped along the way as he held her against the stacks of books and devoured her with his mouth. He worshipped the skin at her neck; her long slender neck that seemed to drive him wild with lust. Hermione briefly remembered something Lavender said before gasping as heat pooled between her legs and rubbed against his prominent erection.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he carried her on. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Let me down,” she coaxed him gently. “You can’t undress me in this position.”

His smile, in that moment, caused her heart to soar and he set her down lightly in front of the fire that Bunty had lit before leaving for bed. Taking her hands in his, Draco searched Hermione’s eyes for any trace of doubt.

“Are you sure?”

“When you held me in your arms last night, I was sure.”

“You have no idea-”

She silenced him with a tender kiss before reaching up to unbutton his shirt.

“Show me.”

Draco’s shirt slipped from his shoulders to the floor. He was speechless; excited in every way that she was willingly standing in front of him, asking him to show her how he felt, and terrified he would ruin it. Hermione noticed his hesitation and smiled up at him, gathering her loose hair over one shoulder before turning her back to him. 

“Can you unzip me, please?”

Trembling fingers delicately touched her skin as he fumbled slightly with the muggle device. As the material divided before him, he realised she wasn’t wearing a bra. Excitement nearly drove him to his knees as he helped her step out of the dress that was now pooled at her feet. She reached down to pick it up before tossing it over to the chair. He automatically grasped her fine lace-covered hips as she did so, mentally reciting his family tree in order to remain calm. 

Slowly she stood and leaned back into him. His hands delicately moved up from her hips, caressing the slight swell of her belly before his thumbs rubbed against the underside of her breasts. Goosebumps broke out all over her body and heat threatened to explode between her legs. Merlin! He had only touched her briefly and she was in ecstasy.

Draco’s lips glided over her bare shoulder as his fingers traced lines across her skin. Her head was back, leaning against him, and her eyes were closed. She was a goddess and he planned to pray at her feet for eternity. Looking down, he saw her pebbled nipples moving as she breathed deeply and he reached up to lightly squeeze them. 

Hermione gasped as she felt herself growing wetter from his touch. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, pulling them gently, before cupping her breasts completely with his hands. His long fingers, perfect for playing the piano, had a different type of music pouring from her lips as she vocalised her desire. His lips moved to her ear.

“I’ve dreamed of you, my witch; your face, your skin, your touch. I’ve come thinking of you. I’ve come with my hand pulling my cock, wishing - wanting - it to be really you and not just a fantasy.”

Hermione moaned as he continued, massaging her breasts and licking her seductively.

“After the ball, I came home alone. I would have done anything to have you here. I stepped into the shower and held myself, imagining your lips around me. I pictured you on your knees with my cock deep in your mouth. I came hard - he bit her earlobe - and I still wasn’t satisfied. I need you.”

Hermione could barely stand. 

“I feel-” she gasped, trembling with desire.

“Tell me. Tell me how you feel.”

Before she could speak, cool air blasted around her naked skin. Draco had wandlessly undressed and he pressed himself even closer to her as their bodies experienced the sensual feeling of skin on skin. 

“I wanted to tell you how I feel last night,” she panted. “Merlin, I wanted you so much.”

“Go on.” His fingers were slowly moving downwards.

“I never made it to my bed. I closed my Floo and lay on the couch.” She turned her head so her lips caressed his as she spoke.

“I lifted my dress and reached between my legs. My pants were so wet from wanting you. When I touched myself, my fingers were coated with desire. My desire for you.”

His thumbs hooked around her pants and, torturously slowly, he began to move them down her legs.

“I slid my hand inside my pants and touched myself. I moved against my fingers over and over again until I came screaming your name. I pushed my fingers inside my body and continued to ride them until I came again - all over my hand, my pants, my dress. But-”

“But?” 

“You weren’t there. I desperately wanted you to be there.”

She shimmied out of her pants and reached down to guide his hand between her legs. 

“Feel how much I want you. Feel how much I’ve wanted you for so long. I knew we’d happen, I knew -”

She screamed as he played her clit; her sudden orgasm sending her into realms of ecstasy she had only ever dreamed of. 

“Oh, you’re so wet, my witch. Taste yourself.”

He lifted his coated fingers to her lips and she devoured each digit, humming as she licked. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen and they had only started. Turning her around to face him, he fell to his knees and licked the juices that were running down the inside of her thigh. She ran her hands through his blond hair as she looked down at the man who was making her feel so beautiful; so sexual. Circe, she wanted him inside her so badly.

“Need you-” she gasped as he moved his tongue sensuously along her lips and circled her clit. 

Draco stood, grasped her hands and moved her to the couch. He sat down, inviting her to straddle him. She did so without hesitation, lowering herself down onto him and mewling in absolute bliss. His hands caressed her hips as he gazed into her lust-filled eyes; those eyes that called to him in his dreams, that smiled up at him last night as he held her in his arms, those eyes that he would know anywhere.

“I won’t let you go...my witch.”

He cried out as she began to move with vigour. Her body pushed against his as she rotated her hips; her hands gripping onto the back of the couch. He leaned forward, capturing a nipple in his teeth and tugging. Hermione threw back her head and moved faster, her delicious breasts bouncing in front of his face, her breathing becoming more erratic as her orgasm washed over her in waves of pure bliss. Draco reached up and cupped her face in his hands.

“Stop.”

She did so instantly although surprised. He smiled as he lifted her off his still hardened cock.

“I want this to last, my witch. Let me pleasure you now.” He smiled tenderly before ordering her onto her hands and knees. She nearly came there and then.

By the light of the crackling fire, Draco Malfoy pounded into Hermione Granger. She cried with pure rapture and desire and he marvelled that she was no longer just a fantasy; she was really here, naked and wet for him. He roared his release into her before reaching between her legs to caress her clit and make her come all over his fingers. This was sex at its best - hot, wet, and fast. They needed it; needed the release of waiting so long to succumb to their attraction. It was worth the wait.

They collapsed onto the rug in front of the fireplace, still linked together. After catching their breaths, Draco slowly withdrew from her body and she instantly mourned the loss. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be mine again soon.”

He leaned down and kissed her with a passion that caused her to squirm with delight. She couldn’t get enough. 

They spent a long while lying next to each other, just touching and tenderly kissing. They finished the Bordeaux and snuck down to the kitchen to feed each other dark chocolate and strawberries before Draco sat Hermione, still naked, on the marble countertop and fed her hunger in other ways. Sighing contently afterwards, Hermione promised to cook him her speciality for breakfast - eggs Benedict.

Returning to the library, they lay on the rug again as dawn began its slow journey skyward. It was then that Draco, slowly and reverently, made love to Hermione. They looked into each other’s eyes as they climaxed together and embraced tightly as new emotions passed through them; this young couple in love.

Hermione was the first to fall asleep and Draco spent a few minutes just gazing at her before he too closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell her I love her. Tomorrow I’ll call my witch Hermione.”  
.

Earlier that day.

Marianne walked along Knockturn Alley in deep thought, carrying the items she was instructed to bring. This, she thought, was her only chance to escape poverty and she was determined to see it work; to hell with the consequences.

Arriving at the correct door, she knocked once. The blackened wood opened, allowing her access, before slamming shut as soon as she stepped inside. The long corridor ahead was dimly lit and Marianne moved cautiously along until she reached the room at the far end. 

The gothic decor was a mixture of the deepest blood red and the emptiest black, with furniture that was ornate but aged. Large glass cabinets lined two walls with potion bottles filling one whilst the other held glass jars, the contents of which Marianne really didn’t want to think about. She may have loved dark magic, and dabbled in it herself before, but even her twisted mind had its limits.

Shadows lurked in every corner and the air smelled of death. Her host sat before her, in a chair made of bones.

“Marianne.”

“Lilith.”

“Sit, please. Did you bring all I asked?”

“Yes.”

Marianne proffered the box she had carried with her and sat back in her seat. The witch in front of her opened the lid and peered inside. Satisfied with the contents, she stood and began preparing for her spell. Marianne took this quiet time to observe her childhood friend.

Lilith Gusion was an exotic creature; her parents were Romanian with a lineage to rival the Malfoy’s and the family had lived outside the city of Cluj-Napoca. They met at Durmstrang and Marianne was instantly drawn to the young girl’s darkened looks and gothic style. As teenagers they both dabbled in the Dark Arts, which were allowed at the school, and they experienced their first sexual desires together under the influence of various erotic potions. Marianne spent many summer nights, naked beneath the beautiful creature, finding pleasure beyond what any man could offer her. They were inseparable and fiercely in love, until the announcement of Marianne’s arranged marriage to Milton Greengrass. 

The girls knew they couldn’t be together and Lilith suggested a suicide pact. It was too much for Marianne; the loss of her love and the terror of their impending deaths caused her to panic and she fled back to England. There she married a man she would never love, enduring his body with her eyes firmly shut and her heart breaking.

Lilith was distraught when Marianne left; she felt pain beyond description, turning to the Dark Arts for comfort only for them to lead her down a path of self-destruction and turmoil. She lived alone for years, away from the terrors of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She existed in her own horror story, one of loneliness and betrayal. The darkness tattooed her skin, robbed the colour from her eyes, and the joy from her heart. The sight of her lost love in front of her was almost too much.

“You are beautiful, Iubirea mea.” My love.

Marianne felt tears prick at her eyes.

“I yearned to hear you say those words again to me, Lilith.”

The other woman looked at Marianne for a long moment before continuing.

“Delebit Oblivio is a dangerous spell. You obviously want someone gone from this world entirely but what would make you hate that much?”

Marianne told her story as Lilith quietly prepared the ingredients for the spell and the tools to be used - Milton Greengrass’ skull would make a nice addition to her collection and virginal blood was an added bonus that would strengthen the spell’s potency. She didn’t ask how Marianne came about the latter ingredient.

Pouring the blood into a silver chalice, Lilith coated her hands before smearing them over the skull as it rested atop her grimoire. The spell was printed on the open pages; the skull representing the person at the centre of the magic, and the blood standing for their magical bloodlines. Waving her wand in her bloodied hand, she conjured up an image of the person Marianne wanted vanished from all existence prior to beginning her chant:

Delebit Oblivio  
Omnes autem obliviscaris  
Nos non recordabor  
haec animam meam

Oblivion  
All we forget  
We will not remember  
This soul

Turning to her guest, Lilith smiled.

“Now, what do you give in payment for these spells?”

Marianne stood and began to unbutton her dress robes.

“I have missed you, Lilith,” she breathed.

“The spell will be complete by sunrise, Marianne,” the enchantress confirmed, her seductive accent conjuring many alluring memories. “As for the other potions you require, they have already been prepared. I willingly accept your payment.”

She moved gracefully towards the love she had once lost, her arousal igniting as Marianne stood naked before her.

“By sunrise, frumoasa mea, you will have a new addition to your household, her wand as a trophy, and no one but you and I will remember Hermione Granger.”  
.

Later that morning, Draco woke alone on the library floor in front of the fire’s dying embers. Rubbing his hands over his face, he suddenly realised he was naked and jumped up, causing his head to swim slightly from the rapid motion. Before him was an empty bottle of Bordeaux and one glass. 

“What the fuck,” he exclaimed, “was in that wine!”


	5. Chapter 5

Narcissa and Lucius were finishing breakfast as Draco walked into the kitchen. The family rarely ate in the formal dining room, preferring the intimacy of the smaller parlours and the relaxed atmosphere of the kitchen. Narcissa smiled as her son walked towards the counter to pour some coffee from the сafetière à piston. 

“Ron made a lovely speech about you the other night, Draco. He was quite eloquent, was he not?”

“The lesser half of the Golden Duo certainly has his moments,” Draco laughed. “He’s a good mate. I’m lucky they all understood after...well, you know.”

Lucius looked up from the Daily Prophet, the front page detailing Lavender Brown’s recent campaigns for the rights of house elves and other magical creatures. 

“We were all lucky, son. Thank Merlin it’s all in the past. Now, more pressing matters need to be discussed. Marianne Greengrass wishes to hold a Sacris Pura.”  
.

The girl tied her long curly hair into a messy bun before kneeling down to clean out the fireplace. The mistress and her daughters were having breakfast in the dining room, chatting animatedly about the upcoming ball.

“Why a Sacris Pura, Mother?” the older daughter enquired.

“Daphne, I wish to hold onto the old traditions. The Sacred Twenty Eight may not exist anymore, per se, but the pure-blood ways must not be lost. I want you both to marry pure-bloods. You are both of age and should be matched so, this way, we are guaranteed the purity of your chosen husbands. Anyone of lesser than pure blood will not be able to enter this house on the night of the Sacris Pura. It is that simple, and if one of you happens to catch the eye of Draco Malfoy-”

“But the dances, Mother,” Astoria cried. “Are they really necessary?”

Marianne laughed.

“The first three dances are the Sacris Pura rituals, my love, after which the older generations leave the ballroom,” her eyes twinkled. “I expect you will greatly enjoy what happens then.”

She went on to explain to her two astonished daughters what was expected following the departure of the adults. Pouring more dragon fruit juice into their goblets, she continued to talk.

The girl in the corner, sweeping up the ashes, dropped her brush upon hearing Marianne’s comments. Soot and cinders blew up into her face, dirtying her skin and making her sneeze. Her grey overall was almost black with grime.

Marianne quickly urged her daughters to finish their drinks and leave the room. The girls did what she asked, exchanging puzzled expressions as they left.

“Stupid girl!” Marianne hissed, jumping out of her seat. “Look at the mess you have made! Clean it up this instant, you filthy wretch!”

She stormed over to the door before turning to address the girl once more.

“Covered in cinders like a dirty house elf! We should call you Cinderella, you pathetic joke.”

The girl sighed before cleaning up the mess.   
.

She had overheard the sisters talking before about young men, in particular two called Blaise and Theo. 

It seemed Daphne was quite smitten with the former, as he was with her, whilst her younger sister had already kissed Theo and planned to partner him at the ball. They confided in each other about their feelings frequently and the girl was often in the room cleaning when they had their heart-to-heart chats. They spoke as if she wasn’t there.

The Greengrass sisters were, however, extremely concerned about their mother’s wishes for one of them to marry Draco Malfoy. He was alone; there was no woman in the world for him as far as they could see. He attended every ball, every function, and always danced with his mother before anyone else. He was always polite and courteous to everyone but would spend the majority of the evening with his friends - Theo, Blaise, Harry, Ron, and Neville. He would stand aside when they partnered off to dance and take a walk outside in the gardens, alone. They commented about how his persona always changed when he danced with Narcissa, however; they would glide around the floor laughing and joking like old friends with Lucius looking on bemused. Their Argentine Tango was legendary apparently.

What was it about Draco Malfoy? Why was he so important to her mistress? His name intrigued her although she could not understand why. She wondered if she would ever find out.  
.

“I will attend,” Draco sighed. “But there is no chance I will meet anyone there. I have no intentions-”

“Draco, darling, we know.” Narcissa stood and embraced him. “Lucius and I will not enter into any marriage negotiations for you. We promised each other, we promised you.” 

“Son, we never explained fully how we came to make this decision. Perhaps one day we will,” Lucius offered, pouring more tea into his cup. The house elves pottered about the kitchen quietly as the family spoke. “All we want is for you to be happy and, although our marriage worked out in the end, there is no guarantee for those who enter into such an arrangement. We will not take that chance for you. You deserve better.”

Love swelled within his heart for the two people facing Draco. He didn’t know their history but he witnessed their devotion daily and he would give anything to experience even a fraction of it. He truly felt he would find love eventually but not amongst the women he currently knew. She was out there somewhere; his witch.   
.

The girl spent many long weeks preparing the Greengrass Estate for the ball; she was exhausted but there was no rest in store. The day of the Sacris Pura had Marianne near hysterics in her panic to ensure everything was set right. 

She took what little spare time she had to wash as best she could with the small pitcher and basin in her room that was situated behind the kitchen pantry. The access was hidden behind a small panel that no one would ever find unless they knew it was there. Crawling out on her knees, she set off to help prepare her mistress for the ball.  
.

Draco stood before his full length mirror in the suit he had had made for the Sacris Pura. The three piece ensemble was of the deepest burgundy, his black silk shirt and bow tie complementing the warm tones. His polished black dress shoes and silver pocket watch finished the look with distinction. 

Bunty held up his cloak, most of it trailing along the floor behind her. Draco knelt down to take the material from her little hand.

“A few hours and it will all be over, Bun.”

“Master Draco,” she squeaked, “you might meet someone nice there. Someone in a pretty dress.”

“What is your favourite colour?”

“Grey, just like Master’s eyes.”

“Well, if I see a nice lady in a grey dress, I’ll pick her, shall I?”

“Oh, yes please!”  
.

“Draco, you look so handsome,” Narcissa cried, her arms open wide as she sashayed down the hall towards him. She looked resplendent in a tight-fitting, scarlet stretch velvet, portrait collar gown. The dress flowed seamlessly to the ground, concealing her diamante sandals. Her blonde hair was tied back tightly in a low bun and the only jewellery was a pair of small ruby earrings. She wore little makeup, her porcelain skin radiating her natural beauty.

Lucius strolled along behind her muttering how she never commented that he looked handsome. Draco couldn’t help but laugh as he embraced the woman who meant everything to him.

“You are a sight to behold, Mother.”

She caressed his cheek, smiling.

“Thank you, my boy. But, please, compliment your father. He is feeling left out.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pieces played at the beginning of the Sacris Pura are Romeo and Juliet, Op. 64/Act 1: Dance of the Knights by Sergei Prokofiev, Palladio by Escala, and finally Danse Macabre, Op. 40 by Camille Saint-Saёns.

The air was crackling with excited tension at Greengrass Estate. Marianne swept through the ballroom, examining every minute detail. She did well, the mistress murmured to herself, although that should be no surprise considering she was the brightest witch of her age. 

Things were slowly falling back into place for the Greengrasses, thanks to the dark magic Lilith had cast weeks before. The girl had transformed the Estate back to its former glory with help from the Malfoy’s house elves. Tenants moved into the numerous properties scattered throughout the vast acres and the accounts at Gringotts were looking healthier. Turning to the gilded mirror that covered one entire wall of the ballroom, Marianne took a moment to observe her reflection. Her dress was divine, even if she did say so herself - she was sultry and alluring in a red suede, high-necked gown with applique beading from the waist up to the collar and covering the tiny capped sleeves. The trumpet train that lay around her was perfect for posing, something she loved to do. She would have Lilith wet with desire later.

Her daughters entered the ballroom just then and Marianne clapped her hands in delight.

“You look beautiful, my girls. Oh, tonight will be a triumph. Draco Malfoy will find it hard to choose between you. But maybe he won’t have to,” she added with a dark glint in her eye.

Daphne and Astoria did their best to hide their discomfort and quickly changed the subject.

“What magic have you cast, Mother?” the younger daughter enquired. “After putting on my dress, I sat at my dressing table to do my hair. Next thing I know, the brushes and clips are moving around me and doing all the work. My makeup was the same! I didn’t have to lift a finger!”

“The same happened to me!” Her sister exclaimed. “I need to know that spell.”

Marianne just smiled and hugged her daughters. Everything was working perfectly.

“Give me a twirl, girls,” she laughed. “Let me admire you both.”

Daphne moved first, her wine coloured velvet and tulle floor-length dress swinging slightly around her slim figure as she slowly turned. The Greengrass rubies adorned her neck and ears and her hair was styled high on her head. 

Astoria, with her love of the bohemian style, wore a small wreath of delicate flowers in her long hair. Her blood red silk dress was strapless with a sweetheart bodice and a wider flowing skirt. 

Chimes promptly announced the first guests and, with that, the Sacris Pura began.  
.

It was a sight to behold; every guest dressed in various shades of red to honour their bloodlines. It was essential for the pure-blood families, or what was left of them, to be represented at such an event and Ron drew the short straw amongst the Weasleys. His flaming red hair clashed horrendously with his brick coloured robes and he tried unsuccessfully to hide behind various drapes in order not be laughed at. 

Neville, Blaise, and Theo were standing near the french doors sipping rosé Champagne and devouring mini red velvet muffins as Ron slid out from the shadows to get another drink.

“Why can’t blood be blue?” he muttered. “At least I wouldn’t look so ridiculous!”

His friends laughed at his discomfort, Blaise clapping him on the back.

“At least, it’s not dark brown. You’d never find me!”

A amused drawl was heard behind him and they each turned to see Draco walking towards them.

“What are you, Ron? A fire exit?”

“Shut up, Draco.” 

Ron continued to moan and complain so the others did their best to tune him out; the last words they heard was how lucky Harry was to be at home watching a bloody Belgian league Quidditch match on his magical television (a new WWW invention). His endless complaining was halted by a tinkling charm as Marianne stood to address her guests.  
.

The girl sat alone in her room, away from all the excitement and revelry. Curled up on her mattress, with a book she had secretly taken from the library, she could hear the distant music and the chatter of so many guests. Moving over to her little door, she pushed it open and crawled out into the pantry. With the larger door slightly ajar, she could hear the mistress talking loudly.

“It is a pleasure to have each and every one of you here. And thank you all for honouring the traditions of the Sacris Pura. It has been a traumatic time for all the wizarding world,” she paused for effect, “but it is wonderful to have the opportunity to come together and celebrate our heritage and our future.” Marianne searched the crowd before setting her eyes firmly on Daphne and Astoria who were standing as near to Blaise and Theo as they dared.

“I welcome each of you to my home and I would like to thank, especially, the Malfoy family who helped me prepare for this glorious night.”

Polite applause rang around the ballroom.

“We only loaned out a few elves,” Lucius whispered to his wife. “You would think we had wallpapered the bloody ballroom ourselves!”

Narcissa sniggered behind her champagne flute.  
.

Malfoy. The girl remembered that name. He must be here. Cautiously, she stepped into the kitchen and moved over to the door that led to the vegetable patch. If she snuck around the back of the kitchen gardens, she could stand behind the trees that surrounded the ruins of the original manor house that had burnt down in the early fifteenth century. From there, she could make her way closer to the ballroom and try to see him. The girl had no idea what he looked like, or why she was so curious about him, but she found herself running along her chosen route as fast as her bared feet would allow.  
.

Marianne announced the first dance would begin and waved her wand in a grandiose manner. Flames from the hundreds of candles adorning the walls and tables dimmed, giving the room an eerie, almost seductive, air. 

The women, both young and old, stepped away from the dance floor and stood in a large semi-circle around it. The gap they left looked towards the open french doors. The men moved out onto the balcony and waited for the music to begin. The dances they would take part in were of the oldest tradition - a courting ritual for both men and women, followed by a celebration of their earthly lives and how fragile the existence of the human soul. Blaise and Theo looked nervous, knowing they would select Daphne and Astoria as their partners in the rituals. Neville was the only one looking forward to them as he would dance with his wife and Ron would certainly choose Lavender despite desperately wishing he was at Harry’s, watching that all-important Belgian league match.

Lucius had gracefully stepped aside to allow Draco choose Narcissa for the dance and offered himself as Marianne’s partner for the evening. It wasn’t strictly against the rules and he knew Draco would refuse to select an unattached witch. 

The symphonic tones of brass instruments shattered the silence and the men began to stride through the open doors. They moved as one, strutting as peacocks and stepping around the dance floor with purpose. The women separated to allow the men weave in and out, circling their chosen partner. Marianne watched Draco like a hawk, her face hardening briefly when she noticed him beside his mother. The music slowed as strings and flutes filled the air and the men proffered their hands to their selected partners, bowing gracefully, and drawing them close. 

Daphne gazed up at Blaise with pure adoration in her eyes as he held her near. Twirling her like a doll, she moved effortlessly in his arms as the music began to fade. The next dance would commence immediately and the couples stood still, waiting for the cellos to strike. 

Violins flirted with the deeper strings as the women took control of the dance floor. They twisted and turned around their statuesque partners, balancing in heels like ballerinas. Suddenly it seemed electricity sparked in the air as drums began to pound the beat. The men grabbed their partners with dominance, holding them tight as they danced with tango-style movements. 

Astoria’s dress swung wildly as Theo lifted her up, his hands firmly around her waist as he turned around and around. She flung her head back, her hair flowing free as the flowers scattered to the floor. When the music struck its final beats he lowered her down and kissed her passionately, lost in the emotion of the moment.  
.

The girl was brave. She reached the ruin, leaning against the stone to catch her breath. Camouflaged completely, she waited before taking a few careful steps towards the Manor. Hiding to the side of the rhododendron path, she skipped along carefully, arriving at the bottom of the stone steps that led up to the balcony. The music was breathtaking, drawing her closer with its intensity and passion. She climbed the steps practically on her hands and knees, praying she would be invisible.

Reaching the balcony, still crouched down, she snuck across to the windows and peered in through the sparkling glass. The spectacle before her rendered her frozen to the spot.

Flames flickered from a myriad of candles as swirling dresses created a constant breeze. Dark red tones adorned every surface and produced an atmosphere of pure eroticism. Couples moved as one around the room, holding each other close as they spun in time to the captivating music. 

White blond flashed before her and caught her eye. She followed the figure around as he spun, holding the most beautiful woman in his arms. He looked so like her; she was certainly older but they looked at each other with such admiration and love as they danced together that it filled her heart with emotions she could not explain. 

The mistress stepped away from her dashing partner to address the dancers once more. 

“And now, the final dance before we leave the night to the young. We are all destined for death at some stage in our brief lives, despite the desires of some to remain immortal. We are pure-blood yet, if there is one thing the past years have taught us, we stand alongside pure-bloods from all walks of life; from the popes to the labourers -”

“How dare she!” Draco hissed to Narcissa. “We stand beside the half-bloods and Muggle-borns. That was a hard lesson to learn but we bloody learnt it!”

Narcissa placed her hand gently on Draco’s arm but said nothing.

“- we remember the fragility of our lives and the vanities of earthly glories. My honoured guests, the Danse Macabre.”

The girl watched as the waltzing couples gracefully paraded around the dance floor once more; the women swaying to the gentle flutes and the men stepping in time to the plucked violins. Suddenly the pace increased as the music reached a crescendo sending shivers through the girl’s body. She gasped, stepping back from the window as he spun by with the beautiful woman in his arms. The dance moved quickly, then slowed to a more gentle pace, before picking up again as the violins crashed like waves against the percussion and brass instruments. It was glorious and the girl was enraptured with the spectacle before her.

The dance continued; the couples panting from their exertions. Adrenaline flowed through their veins as the tension of the music almost suffocated them. Eventually it came to an end and the majority of the dancers separated in order to sit and rest. 

Draco kissed his mother tenderly on both cheeks before taking her arm and leading back to her husband who couldn’t wait to escape Marianne’s company. Her speech had also displeased him.

“Can we leave now, Cissa? I find myself in need of solitude before I say something I may regret.”

Narcissa leaned in towards her husband. 

“Would that solitude involve a certain rug, my love?”

Lucius smirked, wrapping his arms around his wife.

“Oh dear Merlin!” Draco rolled his eyes. “Go, please. Before my ears start to bleed.”

“Will you be alright, Draco? We will stay if you want.”

“No, we will not, Son. See you at breakfast.”

Draco laughed as Lucius took his wife firmly by the arm and escorted her to the apparition point in the foyer.

Looking around the crowded room, Draco noticed Daphne and Blaise were still dancing to the more sensual music that had begun to fill the room. Neville and Luna were seated with Ron and Lavender, all laughing hysterically as the red fire exit acted out one of his many tall tales from their workplace. Theo and Astoria had disappeared.

Draco sighed before making his way towards the french doors. Politely declining more dances and invitations to sit with young daughters, he eventually stepped out into the cool spring air.

“Malfoy! Where are you going?” He didn’t recognise the voice.

“Just getting some air,” Draco called back over his shoulder. “Excuse me.”

The girl panicked when she saw him moving towards her. She hurried down the stone steps, crouching at the bottom behind a peony rose bush. From her viewpoint, she watched him lean against the stone balustrade and bury his face in his hands. Draco Malfoy. This was the man they spoke about. She moved slightly forward, causing the bush to rustle as she scraped her arm against the flowering buds.

The sudden noise alerted Draco and he grabbed his wand, moving swiftly towards the stone steps.

“Who’s there?”

The girl gasped, panicking as she lost her footing in her haste to escape. Catching sight of her, Draco dashed down the steps and held out his hand to help her up. She scrambled away, before jumping up and running towards the trees as fast as she could.

Draco was rooted to the spot with surprise. Who was she? And what was she doing out in the cold wearing a light dress? Turning slowly to ascend the steps, he noticed something stuck to the thorns of the rose bush. Reaching down, he plucked a small scrap of material from the barb; a fragment of her torn grey dress.  
.

The older generations, as arranged, stepped away from the ballroom shortly after the Danse Macabre. Marianne bid farewell to her guests before taking one final look at the younger couples who were staying behind. Her eyes fell on Daphne first, her eldest daughter in the arms of the exotically handsome young man. The powerful beats of the more modern music encouraged them to dance so close, it seemed their bodies were as one. The fast tempos and pulsating drums had many couples in various states of passionate dancing and the evening was still young.

Marianne smiled as she turned to leave the ballroom for the evening. Climbing the stairs to her bedroom, she passed Astoria’s door. Leaning carefully against it, she heard Theo’s voice.

“Merlin, Tori, I love you!” 

Panting and moans followed from her youngest daughter. 

“Yes, Theo, yes! Oh, Gods...love you so much.”

Stepping away, Marianne pursed her lips. Her plan to get her hands on the Malfoy coffers was fading fast but, when she saw the expressions on the faces of her beloved daughters as they danced this evening, she wondered if all those Galleons would be worth it. Indecision tore at her; money or love. Which was better? She had lost out once; did her daughters deserve that same fate?

Opening the door to the main bedroom, her eyes feasted on Lilith lying naked on her bed surrounded by black feathers and petals. Marianne decided there and then it was the latter that should win out but she was greedy. She may have lost Malfoy but she still had Granger, the insufferable know-it-all, and she would have her revenge.


	7. Chapter 7

Weeks passed and Draco found himself thinking about the young girl at the stone steps; his fingers constantly rubbing the scrap of grey material he kept in his pocket. Who was she? She was a messy little thing, that was certain, although he didn’t get a good look at her face as she was mostly hidden in the shadows. He still wondered where she came from, if she was warm and safe as temperatures had been quite cool the night of the Sacris Pura and she was poorly dressed. He asked the house elves if they knew of any human servants working in the neighbouring estates but there were none. He also questioned every guest who came to Malfoy Manor but no one could help him. 

Daphne and Astoria were sitting down to breakfast when he arrived one morning and graciously accepted their invitation to join them. As they sipped their dragon fruit juice, they asked him about the upcoming Flower Ball at Malfoy Manor.

He sighed, putting down his pumpkin juice. “I hate balls! Why do we have to have so many?”

Daphne laughed. “There are two balls left, Draco. Honestly, you’d think we were at one every week.”

“It feels like it!”

“Oh, don’t be so childish! The next one raises funds for St. Mungo’s and the one after that is for your bloody birthday! And we all have to wear green and I hate green. You’re lucky we love you so much!”

She lifted her goblet to her lips again, smirking at the blond sitting with his face in his hands.

“Draco, if you relaxed and tried to enjoy yourself more at these events you may find they’re quite fun,” Astoria offered her opinion to the top of his head. “The only time you have a smile on your face is when you’re dancing with your mother. It’s a bit...weird.”

“Seriously Tori? Weird? What’s weird about dancing with my mother?”

“Well, I’ve never heard of a mother and son dancing a rhumba before,” she muttered into her juice. 

Before Draco could answer, Marianne entered the dining room.

“Draco, darling, what a lovely surprise. How are you? Are you staying?”

“Very well, Marianne, thank you. I am staying for breakfast, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course!” Marianne waved her hand. 

Over the most delicious eggs Benedict Draco had ever tasted, he explained why he had come to visit. The two younger women listened intently, sipping their juice, whilst Marianne clenched her fists beneath the table.

“Oh Mother, the poor girl! She must have been freezing!”

“We should look around the grounds and ask the tenants, Mother. She could be all alone out there.”

Marianne took a deep breath and stood.

“Draco, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll make enquiries immediately.”

She swept from the room, leaving her daughters and Draco to finish their breakfast.  
.

“How dare you!” She screamed at the shivering girl. “How dare you leave this house!”

Marianne was pulsating with rage; sparks of dark energy shot into the air around her as she launched herself at the grey heap on the floor. Blood was pouring from the girl’s nose and her exposed skin was sliced with cuts. Screaming the Cruciatus curse at her, Marianne glowered as she writhed in agony.

“You will never leave this house again, you filthy piece of scum.”

Spitting on the broken girl, Marianne stormed out of the kitchen.  
.

The annual Flower Ball was the highlight of the social calendar and everyone wanted to be there. Even the Minister of Magic had to beg for a ticket, promising his season passes to the Falcons’ games in return. 

Draco found himself standing in front of his full length mirror again with Bunty fussing around. His suit was Muggle-designed and he admired the cut of the white shirt and short jacket. He wore a red rose over his left breast, the only colour in his monochrome outfit. Bunty sat on his foot while she polished his black patent dress shoes.

The scrap of grey material was still in Draco’s pocket.  
.

Daphne and Astoria stood in the foyer waiting for Marianne to join them. They chatted loudly, admiring each other’s dresses and marvelling at the spells that had their hair and makeup done again without any effort on their part. Both wore red again; Daphne smothered by hundreds of small red roses and daring to show her long legs through a slit that reached up to the top of her thigh. Astoria was more elegant and demure with her silk dress clinging to her svelte figure. Her flower was at the back, hanging just below the backless gown. 

Marianne stepped into the hall, wearing an off-the-shoulder black ball gown that spread out around her. Her white roses were worn on her corsage and her jewellery matched the black and white theme. Her fascinator also took the shape of a large black flower. 

Taking one look back towards the kitchen, she turned to her daughters.

“Ready?” she enquired, before apparating.


	8. Chapter 8

The girl lay on her mattress, her tear-stained cheeks reddened from wiping them. She had prepared the sisters for the ball and they still didn’t acknowledge her presence. The mistress beat her daily as a reminder of her place; her solitary life was misery.

She prayed for happiness every night but endured the same back-breaking routine every day. In her dreams she would see smouldering grey eyes shining down at her but would wake to bare walls and a cold floor. Fresh tears fell as she wondered who he would dance with tonight, what he would be wearing, and whether he would step away from the ball to spend time alone. Fingering the tear in her dress, she sobbed uncontrollably.

“I wish...I wish I could see him...please...somebody...help me. I-I can’t stand this pain...”

Burying her face in her hands and crying as her heart shattered, the girl almost missed the knock at her little door.  
.

“Are you in there? We haven’t got all night!”

“On the clock, you know. We’ve another appointment at twenty past.”

The girl gasped in shock, backing away into a corner. “H-hello?”

“Yes! Hello! Honestly, can you please open the door? My leg is cramping.”

“That’s my leg.”

“Really?”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, the girl crawled over to the door and gingerly opened it.

Two of the brightest and happiest faces, with the most flaming red hair she had ever seen, grinned back at her.

Before she knew it, they had reached in and pulled her out of the little cubby hole. Drawing her forward into the kitchen, they propelled her over to the large counter in the middle of the room and plonked her down on a chair. 

“Now, what can we do for you?” They chimed simultaneously.

“I don’t-I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The one on the left exclaimed.

“You called us here.” The one on the right.

“But who are you? I-I didn’t call anyone.”

“Were you crying and sobbing? Going ‘I wish, I wish’ over and over again?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then you called us - Weasley’s Wizarding Wishes. I’m Fred and he’s George. Now, what are we here for?”

The girl wiped her face again and began to talk. After a few minutes, George held up his hand to stop her before turning to his twin.

“Cancel our twenty past, mate. This’ll take a while.”  
.

One hour later (well, there was a lot to do!) the girl stood in front of a conjured mirror and began to cry all over again.

“Thank Merlin for waterproof mascara,” Fred muttered. “Is there no end to your tears!”

“Ignore my brother,” George swept his arm around her slim shoulders. “He’s just jealous he couldn’t pull that look off.”

As the brothers bickered lightheartedly, the girl looked at the miracle before her.

She wore an A-line dress of the palest coral with the finest grey lace covering the bodice and flowing over the skirt. It was exquisite with silver grey flowers adorning the lace here and there. Her high-heeled pumps matched the coral perfectly with rose gold branches wrapped around the narrow heels. A balancing spell eased her concerns about the height of the shoes.

Fred, the makeup artist, insisted her beautiful features would be enhanced by the bare minimum of makeup (“Well there’s no point really if you’re going to keep crying!”) and George, coiffeur extraordinaire, styled her with a simple knot at the back of her slender neck before sprinkling a little fairy dust as a finishing touch.

They insisted she didn’t need any accessories except her wand.

“What wand?” she looked confused.

“Your wand,” Fred replied.

“So you can apparate there and back again,” George explained as if talking to a destructive toddler.

“I-I don’t have one,” the girl looked confused. “Why would I have one?”

George looked at his pocket watch. 

“No time! We’ll apparate you there.” Waving his wand, he chanted multiple anti-sickness charms (“that dress is not for throwing up on!”) before taking her hand.  
.

They reappeared at the gates to Malfoy Manor. Turning to the girl, Fred issued final instructions.

“Now, behave. No drinking from punch bowls, they probably be spiked. No, they will be spiked. It’s tradition. Say please and thank you. Wash you hands after using the toilet…”

“Fred, wrong list of instructions mate.”

“What? Oh, sorry. Right. Now, behave…. Only kidding. We’ll be here at midnight. No later, missy!”

The girl laughed. It seemed a strange sound to her ears, as if she had heard it before but couldn’t quite remember it. But these two...what were they? They had lifted her spirits and granted her wish, even if it was for only a few hours. It would be enough.

She leaned in and hugged them both. 

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Be here on time.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s midnight or Mongolia, we’re still working out the glitches.”

“Eh...how do I get in?”

With a flourish of Fred’s wand, an invitation appeared before her.

“Don’t ask.”  
.

“The evening is going very well, Lucius, and it’s only past eight. It such a pity Kingsley came down with spattergroit; he was so looking forward to coming.”  
.

The girl was too nervous to walk straight up to the front door of the imposing house so she moved around the side, sticking to the shadows as she was used to. Twice she turned back to the gates only to receive encouraging waves from Fred and George who were now waving a banner that read “Mongolian barbeque gives you wind. Be here at midnight.”

Arriving at the back of the property, she stepped onto the terrace and moved carefully towards the large windows.

She instantly saw Daphne and Astoria, both looking stunning in the dresses she had made and set out for them. They still never noticed her in their home; would the see her here? The girl didn’t know. She glanced around for sight of her mistress and found her some minutes later on the dance floor with an older gentleman the girl didn’t recognise.

Stepping closer to the window she spotted the beautiful woman across the room and he was standing beside her. The older lady wore a long dress of darkest juniper with long floral-patterned lace sleeves. The sweetheart bodice with flowing skirt was not unlike Astoria’s Sacris Pura gown. They were joined by a darker blond man who offered his hand to the beautiful woman and led her to the dance floor where they kissed tenderly before he swept her up in his arms and twirled her around. 

The girl turned her eyes back to him, watching as he smiled at the dancing couple before moving across the room towards the terrace, stopping here and there to shake hands and kiss cheeks. She stepped back, sending a quick prayer of thanks to Fred and George for granting her wish. She had no idea what might happen this evening but the chance to look upon his face again would be enough; she would have something to cling to in her dreams.

He stepped out onto the terrace and took a deep breath, the night air ruffling his hair slightly. Moving forward, he noticed her standing over to his right.

“Good evening.”

She turned around and smiled. “Hello.”

Draco couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was bewitched by the most beautiful face he had ever laid eyes on; she was a vision before him. 

“Yours gardens are-” she began, waving her hand towards the manicured lawns.

“I like your dress,” he spluttered. 

“Pardon? Oh, thank you,” she laughed. “I was about to say your gardens are breathtaking.”

“They tend my mother... sorry, my mother tends them. Along with the house elves.” He mentally kicked himself.

“House elves?” Her brow furrowed in confusion but he mistook it for annoyance.

“Oh, are you one of Lavender’s friends? I’m sorry - I’m Draco Malfoy.”

He stepped forward and offered his hand. She was shaking as she held out her own, praying he wouldn’t notice her nerves. He raised it to his lips, closing his eyes briefly as he did so. The girl felt emotions race through her, making her hot and cold at the same time. It was thrilling, albeit a tad frightening.

“You’re shaking, allow me,” he said, conjuring up a pale grey shawl of the most delicate Angora wool. “Is that better? Or would you rather step inside?”

“Not just yet,” she replied, drawing the shawl around her shoulders. “I’d like to take a walk in the gardens.”

“May I join you?” There was no way she was leaving without him getting to know her better. There was something…

She smiled, nodding her head.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione dance to Finding Beauty by Escala, Serenata Immortale by Immediate, and finally Sarabande by Myleene Klass.

Draco linked her arm in his as they strolled together through the gardens. He couldn’t really explain why he did it but it felt right; she felt right.

“Your mother must be very artistic,” she commented. “The floral displays are extraordinary!”

Her voice sounded strange; she wasn’t used to hearing it and she marvelled at her sudden ability to carry on a conversation with him. Her only company for as long as she could remember was the mistress, and the daughters who ignored her. She rarely spoke so she put her newly discovered intelligence and capacity to converse down to something Fred and George must have done. 

“We spent a long time in darkness,” Draco explained quietly. “Mother has worked tirelessly to bring us, and our home, back into the light. ‘To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow’ she always says.”

“And sometimes we are stuck in shades of grey.”

He stopped abruptly. “Why would you say that?” he queried, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket.

“I-I don’t know,” she paused before adding, “it was quite profound, wasn’t it?”

“Come, there’s something I’d like to show you.” Without thinking, he reached for her hand.

Walking in comfortable silence, the sound of running water soon replaced the fading music as they moved further away from the Manor. 

Stepping around a hawthorn hedge, the girl suddenly stopped moving and could only gasp at the stunning scenery in front of her. The stone path was guiding them to a wide river, divided by a small waterfall. Large stepping stones transversed a makeshift dam that allowed the water to flow down through them. It was breathtaking.

“Mother calls this Abhainn na nAmhanna, it’s Celtic for River of Wishes. On the other side of the water, there’s a path she calls Fálta dorcha - Dark Hedges. She is really inspired by the Celtic way of life and meditates here quite a lot.”

“You speak so fondly of her,” the girl remarked, turning to look directly at him. “You must love her very much.”

Draco looked deeply into her mesmerizing eyes before replying; they were captivating and so...familiar. How could that be?

“My parents have been my strength for years, I’d be lost without them,” he took her hands in his again. “They have given me the freedom to love, something I will be eternally grateful for.”

Sixty minutes; the time they had spent together so far. Was it possible to know in one hour? He knew nothing about her, absolutely nothing, and yet - and yet, he knew with every fibre of his being - she was the one. How could he possibly explain to her how he was feeling? She would think him mad!

He led her towards the river.

“What are you doing!”

“I’m bringing you across the river.”

She tried to pull back. “No, no, you can’t. I’ll fall!”

He laughed. “It’s alright, I won’t let you go.”

Those five simple words sent shockwaves through her and she stumbled, almost falling directly in the flowing depths. Draco’s seeker reflexes instantly came into play and he swooped down to catch hold of her slim waist. Turning her body to his, he grasped her tightly to him with one hand holding the back of her head and the other wrapped around her waist. She leaned into him, closing her eyes in relief and relishing the safety of his embrace. He was...everything.

Draco’s hand moved from the back of her head, gently caressing her soft hair before his fingers gently tilted her face up. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of desire; she was all he had waited for. Cautiously, he leaned his head towards her, his eyes focused on her inviting lips that were slowly opening to welcome him home.

The girl wanted remain forever in that moment; her heart breaking with regret, knowing this fairytale would be shattered in hours. But, in those few moments, she resolved to live a lifetime. Her lips softly brushed against his…

“Master Draco! Mistress Cissa says the dances is starting!”  
.

They walked hand in hand back towards the Manor, stepping through the doors into the ballroom. The girl was apprehensive, gripping Draco’s hand tighter, and he squeezed back before guiding her towards the dance floor. He completely ignored the staring faces and hushed whispers, not even hearing the breaking glass as Marianne dropped her Champagne saucer. Twirling her to face him, he gathered her close and began to move effortlessly. She fell into step easily, how she did not know.

The girl felt every eye follow them around the floor. 

“They are all staring,” she whispered.

“They are looking at you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you are in my arms and you are all I see.”

“I think I’d like to stay in your arms.”

“Well then, I won’t let you go.”

Tears threatened to spill but she blinked them away. In a few hours, she would be lost to him. 

Draco glanced up and caught his father’s eye. He nodded to the older man who smiled back in acknowledgement.   
.

The startling realisation that Draco Malfoy was dancing, and apparently enthralled, with a woman who was not his mother spread around the ballroom and terrace like fiendfyre. The whispers broke out into full scale declarations of abject disappointment (he was no longer available) and utter relief (he was not gay). 

Harry begrudgingly handed Ron a small bag of Galleons who jangled the winnings back at his best friend in glee whilst Ginny and Lavender gushed like schoolgirls at the romantic scene before them. Neville was completely oblivious having never left the dance floor himself, despite Luna’s protestations about the Clurichaun having spiked their drinks.

Astoria, who was sitting on Theo’s knee, turned to her sister who had just returned from admiring the laurel hedges with Blaise.

“I’ve never seen Draco look so happy, Daph. Look at him!”

“He deserves it, doesn’t he? After all they have been through, he deserves happiness.”

Their partners nodded their agreement as Blaise surreptitiously removed some leaves from Daphne’s hair.  
.

“Have you seen our son, Cissa?” Lucius led her away from the ballroom to speak privately to her for a moment.

“Oh Lucius,” she almost broke down. “He has found her!”

“I know, my love, but do you know who she is?”

“I-I don’t. Do you?”

“No. I have never seen her before this night.”

“That is strange. Did you see her arrive with anyone? Perhaps she’s representing someone who couldn’t attend at the last minute - Kingsley, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so. I recognise everyone here.”

“Lucius-” Narcissa started.

“Don’t worry, Cissa. I will not destroy our son’s happiness but I have a horrible feeling something is not quite right.”  
.

The first bell chimed.

“What was that?” she asked, moving back into his arms after twirling away in time to the upbeat rhythm.

“It’s midnight, the witching hour,” he teased.

The second bell chimed.

She pulled away abruptly. “I must go.”

“What? No!”

The third bell chimed.

She turned and fled the ballroom. Stunned momentarily, Draco dashed after her.

The fourth bell chimed.

He grabbed her arm as she reached the main doors.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

The fifth bell chimed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Please! Please let me go.”

“No, I don’t understand! I won’t let you go!”

The sixth bell chimed.

She wrenched herself from his grip and flung open the door. He caught up with her again at the bottom of the steps.

“Stay! Please! Tell me what’s going on.”

The seventh bell chimed.

“I can’t! I can’t! It’s all a lie!”

“How I feel is not a lie! I’m begging you! Stay with me!”

The eighth bell chimed.

“I feel it too! I don’t want you to let me go!”

“THEN STAY!” he roared. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

The ninth bell chimed.

She struggled desperately and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled and fell hard onto the gravel. Gathering her dress, she ran as fast as she could towards the gates but tripped in her haste.

The tenth bell chimed.

Righting herself, she tore off her shoes and ran on. Draco tried in vain to catch up with her.

“Stop! Please!”

The eleventh bell chimed.

She reached out and grasped the hand that had mysteriously appeared in front of her. Draco also tried to catch hold of her but managed only to claim one of her shoes before she disappeared.

The twelfth bell chimed.

She was gone.

Draco fell to his knees, clutching her shoe.

“I don’t even know your name,” he whispered to the air as the tears spilled down his cheeks.


	10. Chapter 10

Narcissa and Lucius found Draco some minutes later sobbing on the path, her shoe still in his hand. 

Lucius carefully lifted his son and half carried him back to the Manor, bringing him straight into the warmth of his study and pouring two large glasses of Ogden's Finest. Narcissa instructed the house elves to ensure drinks flowed and music played without interruption before dashing off to join her husband.

Minutes later, she sat on the couch beside the young man who was staring into the fire, tears still streaming down his cheeks. He never touched the glass his father had set before him, he just held onto one high-heeled coral and rose gold shoe.

“Draco? Darling, what has happened?” she asked tentatively, looking up at Lucius who stood on the other side of Draco with his hand on his son’s shoulder.

Silence.

“Draco, please, tell us.”

“She’s gone.”

“Who is gone, Son?” Lucius sat down on the couch.

“She’s gone.”

Draco started to shake violently. 

“Pippy!” Narcissa jumped up as her house elf appeared. “Calming Draught, as quickly as you can!”

Lucius held tightly to Draco as his shaking continued; there was no end to his tears and the older man felt useless in those few moments. A look of panic swept between the two as they watched their child suffering without understanding why. It was torment.

Pippy popped back with the potion in a little silver vial. She gently poured it down Master Draco’s throat as his parents kept him as still as they could. Seconds passed agonizingly slowly before the shaking began to subside and, eventually, Lucius and Narcissa were able to settle their son down and cover him with a blanket as he fell into a deep sleep on the couch - still clutching the shoe.  
.

Draco dreamt of dark eyes and tears, of Trojan wars and winged messengers. 

He awoke to find his parents asleep in the armchairs across from the couch, still in their outfits from the ball. For a moment he couldn’t understand why they would all be in his father’s study.

The events of the previous night startled him back to reality and he felt the tears well up in his eyes again. He realised he was still clinging to her shoe.

In a few hours, he had loved and lost. It was almost too much to bear.  
.

“It was a marvellous night!” Astoria exclaimed over breakfast. “What an event!”

“Are you talking about the dancing? The money raised for St. Mungo’s? Or the fact Draco Malfoy is no longer England’s most eligible bachelor?” Her sister laughed before picking up her dragon fruit juice.

A crash in the corner of the room had both girls leaping out of their seats in fright. The tea tray was strewn all over the tiled floor with hot steaming liquid flowing in all directions.

“Where did that come from?” Daphne wondered aloud, grabbing her napkin to begin mopping up the mess.  
.

The girl ran back to the kitchen and crawled into her cubby hole. There, she curled in a ball and sobbed. 

She had promised herself the short time with him would be enough but she had been so wrong; her broken heart was shattered beyond all repair. She would never have him and the realisation was beyond agony.  
.

 

Stirring uncomfortably in the armchair, Narcissa woke to find Draco sitting up and staring into space. 

“Draco? Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer.

Narcissa moved stiffly over to the couch and, as she sat down, Bunty appeared before her. The tiny elf was moved to tears at the sight of her master and she curled up in a ball at his feet and held his shoelaces. Pippy appeared with a pot of coffee for the family before setting off to clean the ballroom, a worried expression on her face. The smell of coffee reached Lucius and soon he too was sitting beside his son, trying to encourage him to talk. 

They were just about to give up hope of ever getting any sense out of Draco again when he closed his eyes and sighed.

“I don’t even know her name.”

“Can you tell us anything about her?”

“Why didn’t I ask her name?”

“Son, what happened?”

Slowly, through many tears, Draco explained what had happened from the moment he stepped out onto the terrace. All the time he talked, he held her shoe.  
.

“Are you sick?” Marianne demanded of the girl. “You look horrendous!”

“I-I-” she couldn’t speak for fear of breaking down again.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, get out of my sight!” The older woman exclaimed. “And stay out my sight until you can stop snivelling.”

Grateful for the opportunity to hide away, the girl returned to her misery.  
.

Blaise and Theo were called to Malfoy Manor shortly after Draco finished telling his story to his parents. Lucius addressed them in the library.

“He is becoming ill and we are worried, as you can both imagine. We need to find this girl and figure out what in the name of all that is magic has happened! Someone must know who she is! Do either of you have any suggestions?”

The young men were just as baffled.

“Tori didn’t recognise her,” Theo began. “I don’t think Daphne did either.”

Blaise nodded in confirmation.

“The guys were just as confused as we were,” he offered, referring to their circle of friends - Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, and Luna. “The girls could talk of nothing else but they had no clue as to who was dancing with Draco.”

Lucius swore.

“Then we search every bloody house until we do find her! Starting with last night’s guests, then we will see. Can we rely on the two of you to assist us?”

“Of course.”

“Definitely! It’ll be quicker if we have more help though.”  
.

An hour later, Theo and Blaise stood with Harry, Ron, and Neville in the library. Narcissa had joined them at this stage, having changed from her ball gown into a plain navy robe. 

“What are you all planning to do?” she enquired of her husband, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“We will find her, my love. I promise.” Lucius placed his arm around her and held her close. “The boys and I have divided up a list of all the guests we had here last night and we plan to interview as many as we can straight away.”

“How will any of you know who she is? I know we all saw her but not for long. Could any of you honestly recognise her?” Narcissa was almost frantic.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I guess we just ask if any of them are missing a shoe,” Neville half-joked.

“Mr. Longbottom, you are a genius!” Lucius exclaimed, much to the surprise of the young men present and the absolute bewilderment of one Neville Longbottom.

Following Lucius out of the library, the party made their way to his study. There, he knelt in front of his son and placed a hand over the shoe that Draco refused to let go of.

“Son, please let me take this. Just for a moment,” he spoke gently to the broken young man in front of him. “We’re trying to find her for you.”

Carefully, Lucius lifted Draco’s fingers from the small shoe and quickly cast a duplication spell. Handing each of the young men a shoe, and keeping one for himself, he tenderly placed the original back in his son’s hands. Taking one last look at, what he firmly believed, was his proudest achievement, he apparated away leaving Narcissa and a little house elf to keep him safe.

Hours passed before Ron apparated back, followed quickly by Theo and Neville. Blaise, Lucius, and Harry all returned soon after. Pippy had more coffee waiting in the library and they each reported on how they had got on.

“Can you believe Millicent Bulstrode insisted the shoe belonged to her! You’d want to see her trying to get her ogre feet into it. The smell alone - ugh!”

“Dennis Creevey claimed it was his! I didn’t know he was gay.”

“Tracy Davis’ mother tried it on, in front of her father!”

“The Patil twins started ripping each other’s hair out to get to the shoe first. It was hot! But very disturbing,” Ron added upon catching Lucius’ threatening glare.

“A complete waste of time!” the older man growled, slamming his hand down on the desk.

Narcissa entered the library, looking worried.

“He won’t eat, Lucius. Bunty has tried everything! I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed. 

Harry, who was standing nearest to her, put his hand on her shoulder.

“Narcissa, we may have visited every house and questioned every possible guest but, if she is out there, we will find her. Even if I have to get the Auror Division onto it.” 

Theo stood up. “I’m going to visit Tori and see if she can help.”

“Actually that’s the last house on my list,” Blaise commented. “Although there’s no point checking there. I’ll go with you anyway.”  
.

Marianne gripped her teacup with menace as she listened to the two men repeat the events of the previous night and the fallout that followed. 

Astoria sat with tears in her eyes as she and Daphne offered their help in the search for Draco’s lost love. 

“They looked so happy,” she cried. “Why did this have to happen to him?”

“Some slag trying to get her hands on the Malfoy money, that’s all it is,” Marianne practically snarled. 

“She looked so beautiful, Mother. Remember her hair, Tori? The style!” Daphne went on to describe in detail the fashionable attire of the mysterious guest, oblivious to her mother’s rudeness. “Her dress was simply stunning too - light coral with the deepest grey. It’s a bit of a useless shade I think, neither dark nor light, but grey was certainly her colour, wasn’t it, T?”

Grey?

Marianne saw red.


	11. Chapter 11

Blaise and Theo shot concerned looks at each other as, suddenly, Marianne leapt from her chair and raced out the door. The girls gasped at their mother’s swift exit and got up to follow her, the two young men close behind them.

Screaming could be heard coming from the direction of the kitchen so they hastily followed the eerie sounds.

“It was you! IT WAS YOU, YOU BITCH! YOU WHORE! YOU WON’T HAVE HIM, YOU DESERVE TO SUFFER-” 

Daphne grabbed Astoria’s arm in panic. “What is wrong with her?” she wailed.

“Mother?” Astoria went to step towards the woman who was howling like a banshee and kicking her feet out in front of her. ”Mother, what are you doing?”

They could make no sense of the strange scene in front of them; Marianne Greengrass had just...gone mad. Her deranged behaviour was terrifying and her two daughters could only stand by and hold onto each other.

Blaise and Theo stepped into the kitchen to witness the woman shrieking and kicking a defenseless girl who was desperately trying to shield herself on the floor. Rushing forward Blaise grabbed Marianne by the shoulders, tearing her away from the unfortunate wretch who was bloodied and broken before them. Theo knelt carefully beside her and reached for her hand.

“It’s alright now, you’ll be okay.” Turning to his friend, he raised his eyebrows in question. 

“Theo? What the hell are you doing? You’re talking to the floor!” Astoria was shaking with panic. 

Blaise turned to her. “Can’t you see what’s going on?” he asked incredulously.

“He’s gone mad!” Astoria cried. “Mother’s gone mad! What-”

Blaise looked at Daphne for support, his hands firmly holding a fuming Marianne in place. “Daph?”

“I don’t see anything, Blaise. I don’t understand.”

Theo held onto the hand of the girl lying on the floor. Her painful whimpers were lessening but she was still in a desperate state. He looked at Daphne.

“Take Astoria to Malfoy Manor, Daph. Get Harry and the guys over here now.”

Blaise was still struggling with Marianne who had begun screaming again, trying to kick at the girl on the floor from where she stood. The girl was in too much pain to move away and began to sob uncontrollably.

Theo didn’t want to move her for fear of her injuries; Neville had medical training and hopefully would be able to help. Conjuring a warm blanket for her in the meantime, he gently laid it over her and continued to hold her hand.   
.

Arriving onto the scene, Auror training kicked in. Harry restrained Marianne and removed her from the room. Blaise and Theo reported the morning’s events to Ron, and Neville knelt by the girl to assess her injuries.

“Can you move?” he asked her gently.

“I think so,” she whispered before whimpering in pain.

“Here,” he offered, “let me help.”

He turned her over and tried unsuccessfully to hide his disgust at the severe bruising that was blooming on her pale skin. From his quick diagnosis, he could identify damaged kidneys, a dislocated shoulder, and three broken ribs.

“Can one of you help?” he called over his shoulder to his friends.

They all moved forward, physically distraught by the sight of the poor girl.

Blaise knelt on one side of her whilst Theo tenderly brushed her hair from her face and wiped her tears. Ron took off his jacket and rolled it up to place under her head.

“I’m going to heal your broken ribs first,” Neville explained. “It will make breathing easier.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Shh,” Blaise soothed. “It’ll be alright.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “It’ll never be alright.”  
.

Harry walked back into the kitchen as Neville was finished healing the girl’s major injuries. 

“I sent Daphne and Astoria over to mine. Ginny and the girls are there. I think there’s enough going on at the Manor,” he added, before enquiring after the girl on the floor.

“I can’t heal bruises here,” Neville apologised. “I’ll need a balm for that.”

“Narcissa will have some, I’m sure,” Theo suggested. “Can we move her to the Manor?”

“I’d bring her through the Floo, mate. Apparating would be too much for her right now.”

Gathering the girl in his arms, Theo moved towards the kitchen door. Neville and Blaise went with him.

“Where’s Mrs. Greengrass?” Ron asked Harry when the others had left.

“Restrained and Stupified,” Harry replied. “She was bloody hysterical, mate! I’ve sent a Patronus to Lucius, maybe he can get some sense out of her.”

“Mental!” Ron articulately answered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What do you think?”

“I think- we’ll have a quick look around before going to Rennervate the screaming banshee out there,” he nodded towards the open door.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m starving.” Ron declared. “I’ll start in the pantry.”  
.

When everyone had left Lucius’s study, Narcissa knelt on the floor in front of Draco. She reached up and covered his hands with hers, the shoe between their entwined fingers.

“My boy,” she whispered. “They will find her.”

“She’s gone,” Draco sighed before looking up to search his mother’s face. “Why did she leave me? What did I do wrong?”

“Oh, my love! You did nothing wrong -”

“THEN WHY DID SHE FUCKING LEAVE ME?” he jumped up, causing Narcissa and Bunty to move swiftly out of his way.

“Master Draco!” The little elf squeaked, tugging at Draco’s trouser leg. “Let Bunty help. Please, what can Bunty do?”

The sight of his lifelong friend and companion trembling on the floor beside him stopped Draco in his tracks.

“I’m-I’m sorry Bun, Mother. I’m so sorry.” He collapsed back down on the couch.

Narcissa sat down beside him, drawing him into her arms.

“No, no, no, my boy. Do not apologise. It will be ok,” she soothed, her arms tightening around him as she kissed the top of his head. 

Turning to the worried elf beside her, she reached out and placed a hand on the creature’s tiny shoulder.

“Bunty, will you prepare some food please?”

Turning to her son, she continued. “Draco, shower and change. We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait.”

Bunty left the study to the sound of a little bubble popping. Sighing, Draco stood and made his way towards the door before turning back to his mother.

“Thank you.”

Smiling sadly, Narcissa Malfoy watched her son walk away. He still held the shoe in his hand.  
.

Whatever was happening at the Greengrass Estate required everyone to quickly apparate away, leaving Lucius standing by the fireplace in the library. Taking a moment to relish the quiet, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was certainly not in the humour for more drama so he gladly remained behind, having more pressing matters to attend to.

The sight of Harry’s Patronus was most definitely not welcome.  
.

Draco stood beneath the shower spray, letting the warm water cascade down over his naked form. His tears were masked by the water but his broken heart was on show for all to see. Sliding down the tiled wall, he hunched in the corner of the shower stall and wept.

Bunty arrived with hot tea and sandwiches some minutes later, placing the food on the coffee table in her Master’s adjoining bedroom. She shook her head sadly at the sorry sight of the room, her eyes tearing up as she bent to pick up his discarded clothes. The shoe was on the cushion of his favourite armchair, upright, as if he had placed it carefully on display.

She trotted over to the bathroom door and called out.

“Master Draco, please eat. Bunty made your special sandwiches. Please, Master Draco, please don’t get cold in there.”

She stayed in the bedroom waiting for him. Eventually, he appeared at the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was still plastered to his face and his eyes were red rimmed. 

“What would I do without you, Bun?”

“You would gets cold and hungry, Master Draco,” the little elf tried to make him smile.

He dropped to his knees in front of her and held her close. She looked into his eyes and blinked.

“You will find your lady. Bunty promises Master Draco.”


	12. Chapter 12

Lucius could only stare at the items in Ron’s hands. 

“Are you sure?”

“Lu-Mr. Malfoy, I am very sure.”

“Show me.”

Ron placed the two items down on the counter before leading Lucius towards the pantry. Just inside the door was a small gap in the wall and a panel moved off to the side.

Lucius slowly bent down and peered into the tiny room, noticing the small mattress and the frayed blanket. He backed away and stood up, turning around to Ron and Harry who both remained outside the pantry door.

“I cannot-” he was completely at a loss for words. 

“The dress was folded at the end of the mattress, just on the floor. The shoe was sitting on top,” Ron explained.

“Did she steal them?” Lucius was simply aghast! How could a servant girl have those clothes? Why was there a servant girl at Greengrass Estate? Living in a hole!

“Sir, we need to question Mrs. Greengrass,” Harry interjected. “She may be able to shed some light-”

“Yes,” Lucius strove towards the door, grabbing the two items on his way. “A chat with Marianne may be most enlightening.”  
.

Marianne was revived to find Lucius Malfoy standing over her with Harry Potter and his redheaded accomplice not far behind. The imposing blond figure held out the dress and shoe.

“Explain.”

Although she was restrained, Marianne practically shook with rage.

“She will not have him!” she spat. “She ruined me! SHE BLOODY RUINED ME!”

“Who is she?”

“Ha! You will NEVER KNOW! NEVER!”

Lucius looked at the hysterical woman before him in disgust. Raising his wand towards her, he began to search her mind.

“You’ll never find her,” she raged on. “She is GONE!”

Lucius’s hand shook with effort. Her mind was completely closed to him although he knew Marianne was not an Occlumens; it should have been quite easy to break through her mental walls. Casting a quick Muffliato, he turned to the young Aurors behind him.

“There is something terribly wrong here. She is not an Occlumens and I am more than competent when it comes to Legilimency. I sense Dark Magic.”

Harry turned to Ron. “Azkaban? Or a holding cell at the Ministry?”

“I’d say A-ban straight away, mate. She’ll be out of our way until we get figure all of this out. And it’s the weekend, McLaggen’s on duty at the Ministry.”

“We’ll take her to Azkaban now,” Harry quickly informed Lucius. “We’ll meet you back at the Manor as soon as we can.” 

They each took hold of Marianne and disappeared, leaving Lucius standing in the middle of her parlour holding a dress and one shoe.  
.

When he finished dressing and had something to eat - under the watchful eye of Bunty - Draco left his room to find Narcissa. She was standing in the conservatory, just off the kitchen, staring out at the rose garden.

“Mother,” Draco stepped into the room.

“Do you feel refreshed?” Narcissa enquired, carefully avoiding the age old ‘how are you?’ cliché.

“I have eaten,” Draco flatly replied. “I don’t- I feel numb.”

She walked over and grasped his hand. Opening her mouth to reply, she was interrupted by someone frantically shouting her name.  
.

Narcissa ran from the conservatory towards the commotion, with Draco close behind. They reached the library to find Neville coming through the Floo after Blaise. Theo was on his knees by the couch, leaning over a shaking mess of grey and brown.

“Dear Circe, what has happened?” Narcissa cried, running through the open doors.

Blaise spoke first, he looked worn out. Neville had moved cover to the couch and knelt down beside Theo.

“Narcissa,” Blaise started, “No, I don’t know where to begin-”

He sat down heavily in the nearest armchair and buried his face in his hands.

Theo stood up and turned to Narcissa and Draco, who had just arrived on the scene behind his mother.

“We were discussing last night, Draco,” he looked sheepishly at his friend. “I’m-”

“It’s alright, I’m sure we’re the talk of the town,” Draco replied, soberly.

“Em, anyway-” Theo bit his lip. “We were just chatting about the girl - I’m really sorry about this - when Marianne jumped up and ran from the room like fiendfyre was chasing her! The girls were panicked and followed. So, naturally, Blaise and I ran after them. We found her, well, heard her screaming in the kitchen and kicking the shite out of that girl.” He gestured to the lump on the couch that was concealed by Neville leaning over.

“The weird thing is the girls couldn’t see what she was doing! We could see the girl on the floor but they couldn’t! I don’t get it-” he trailed off.

Blaise looked up. “Marianne kept screaming and kicking her. I dragged her off the girl but, Merlin, the poor thing was in bits! Daph brought Astoria over here and got Harry, Ron, and Nev. Harry restrained Marianne and had to bloody Stupefy her! Neville, tell them what you had to do.”

Their quiet friend remained kneeling by the broken girl and just turned his head to face Narcissa and Draco. Their view of her was still blocked by his body.

“She had damaged kidneys, a dislocated shoulder, and Marianne did a number on three of her ribs. I’ve healed them but she’ll be tender for a few days. The bruising is extensive and I didn’t have any balm. Theo said you might have some, Narcissa?” 

“Of course,” she replied before turning to Draco. “Can you fetch it from my bathroom cabinet?”

“Sure,” he walked out of the room without saying anything else.

“How is he?” Blaise asked.

“He is broken, Blaise.” Narcissa replied, her eyes tearing again. “I am sure this girl will be found but it can’t happen fast enough! I won’t see my son suffer.”

Theo put his arm around the woman who was like a second mother to him.

“We will find her, Narcissa. I’m sorry we added this to your troubles today,” he gestured towards the couch.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Narcissa wiped her eyes. “What the bloody hell happened to Marianne! I don’t understand.”

Draco walked back into the room at that moment and handed a large jar of bruise removal paste to his mother. She smiled up at him and patted his arm before walking over to the couch. Neville stood up to give her room.

The Floo roared to life and Lucius stepped into the room, carrying some coloured items in his hand. He instantly moved his hand behind his back upon seeing the crowded room.

“Cissa, we need to talk. Can you excuse us, please, everyone?”

“No, Lucius, you’ll have to wait. I need to tend to our guest.” Narcissa looked pointedly at him before turning back around to the girl lying in front of her.

“My dear, can you hear me?” she carefully brushed the girl’s long, scraggly brown hair away from her face. Lucius stood back, keeping his distance from Draco lest his son recognise what he was concealing behind his back.

The girl turned her head to look up at the beautiful woman who was gently touching her. The beautiful woman…

“No!” she gasped, trying desperately to cover her face with her hands. “No, please, let me go! Let me go!”

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Narcissa cooed. “You’re safe. I’m only trying to heal your bruises. Can one of you help me?” She called over her shoulder.

“Let me,” Draco offered, stepping forward.

Through her fingers the girl saw him move towards her and began to sob hysterically.

“Please! Please don’t come near me. Don’t look-”

Draco knelt down beside his mother and touched the girl’s hand gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. You need your bruises checked.” He spoke calmly, pulling her fingers away from her face tenderly. “Mother just wants to help.”

The girl looked up at him, tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Forgive me,” she cried. “Please forgive me.”  
.

Draco was stunned. His hand was still wrapped around her delicate fingers and he was frozen to the spot. 

Narcissa turned to look at the other men in the room, her brow furrowed, before looking back to her son.

“Draco?”

“It’s you,” he stammered, his eyes fixed on the girl before him. “I thought I’d lost-” 

His voice broke; he couldn’t stop the tears that began to blur his vision. Blinking them away, he grasped the girl’s other hand and raised both to his lips.

“I found you,” he whispered again.

“I’m so sorry,” she was still weeping. “I didn’t want to go-”

Narcissa stood up, turning to the audience in the room.

“I think we should leave,” she addressed Blaise, Theo, and Neville, before turning to Lucius. “We can talk outside.”

She left the paste down beside Draco and moved quietly towards the door, following the four men. She looked behind her once more at her son, who was still on his knees holding the hands of the girl lying in front of him. Gently, she closed the door.

“We’ll talk in the parlour,” she announced to the others. “I could do with something strong.”  
.

 

“Can you sit?” Draco asked the girl.

“I think so,” she replied quietly. “The pain is gone, thanks to your friend, but I’m really sore.”

“Let me help.”

He scooped her up in his arms and stood up. Turning around, he sat on the couch and held her close to his body. She rested her head on his shoulder and cuddled into him.

“Please don’t hate me.”

“There is no way I could hate you,” he murmured into her hair. “I have you back.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Draco could hardly believe he was holding her in his arms; he had despaired of ever having this moment again. 

The girl closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and relishing in the comfort and safety of his arms. It wouldn’t last though; she would tell her story and he would let her go in disgust.

“I should heal your bruises.” 

“Can’t we just stay like this?” she whispered. “I don’t want you to let me go.”

“I won’t, I promise.” She didn’t believe him. Once he found out, he would be lost to her forever.

“You can’t know that,” she began to cry again.

He tightened his hold on her. “Shh, it’s alright. Whatever it is, we will sort it out. I lost you once. I won’t lose you again. Tell me-”

“It’s all a lie! Everything is a lie! You’ll hate me!” She wailed, pulling away from him. She moved to the other side of the couch, curling herself in a ball and weeping.

Draco was completely baffled. He just sat, staring at her as she continued to cry.

“All I know is I fell in love with you last night. Probably the moment you turned to me on the terrace and said hello. You held my hand and I knew. You stood in my arms and I knew. You danced with me and I knew. You ran away and I still knew. I don’t even know your bloody name and yet I know. I love you.”

“I wish that were true.”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Look at me!” she cried, waving her arms around the room. “Look at this, at yourself! We don’t belong together. Last night was a trick so I could see you again.”

“I don’t understand-”

“The ball! The ball were they all wore red. I saw you and I-I just wanted to see you again. Just for a while, I wanted it to be real.”

It hit Draco like a brick. “It was you on the ground; you ran from me.”

He reached into his pocket and took out the scrap of grey material.

“I think this belongs to you.”

“I ripped my dress,” she reached over to take the fabric, their fingers brushing together as she did so.

“How did you come to the Flower Ball?” he wondered.

Sighing, she slowly sat up and began to explain about her wish, about Fred and George, and about the magical dress and shoes. 

“For a little while I was pretty,” she smiled sadly.

His heart breaking at the sight of her sadness, he moved carefully towards her. Reaching out for her hands, he took them in his and held them close to his chest. He looked up, searching her face.

“You were the most beautiful woman in the room,” he spoke with such love in his voice. “Behind that wild hair, those tear-stained eyes, and that grey dress, is the woman I fell in love with. I don’t care where you’ve come from. I just need to know you feel the same.”

He reached one hand forward and cupped her cheek, wiping some stray tears away with his thumb.

“Do you?”

She broke down. “I do. I really do.”

He gathered her close and pressed his lips to hers. Cautious about hurting her, his kiss was gentle and sweet but full of love. He had found her.

“There’s just one thing,” he asked, pulling slightly away and smiling down at her.

“What’s your name?”

She opened her eyes wide. “I-I don’t know.”


	13. Chapter 13

Draco walked into the parlour and sat down on the side of the armchair that his mother currently occupied. Harry and Ron had returned to the Manor whilst he was in the library and were in the middle of explaining to everyone what had   
happened to Marianne.

“She in Azkaban at the moment,” Ron continued, speaking directly to Narcissa and Lucius. “Legilimency won’t work on her so we’re preparing a Veritaserum that we use if we suspect Dark Magic.”

“How will that work?” Lucius enquired.

“Her mind is basically locked to us,” Harry continued. “We can’t access her thoughts so we have no idea what exactly she’s done. For this particular dose of truth serum, we replace the jobberknoll feathers with nightjar ones. The serum breaks down the dark magic bit by bit. We should be able to piece together what’s been going on over the next few hours. The serum will be ready shortly”

“That’s excellent news!” Lucius stood to pour himself another glass of Firewhiskey. “Who developed such a potion?”

“Eh...I don’t actually know.”

“Well, at least we’ll get to the bottom of this mystery,” Narcissa commented before putting her hand out to her son.

“Draco, is everything okay?”

“I hope so. I’d like to talk to you both. In private.”

Harry stood, looking at his blond friend. “We’ll head back to the girls, mate. Check in on you later?”

“Actually, why don’t you all come back here for dinner?” Narcissa suggested. “It’s been an eventful morning. I’m sure the girls are waiting for updates anyway.”

The young men expressed their thanks and promised to return later that evening with their wives and girlfriends before apparating away.

There was a moment of silence before Draco asked his parents to accompany him back to the library.  
.

The girl was still sitting on the couch when the family walked back in. Draco immediately went over to her, taking her hand in his.

Lucius raised an eyebrow before sitting down in one of the facing armchairs. Narcissa took the other.

“Before we begin,” Draco started, “I need you both you know this is my decision. I don’t care about status or background. This is my choice.”

“We understand, my boy,” Narcissa replied. “Lucius?”

The older man looked over at his son before turning his eyes to the girl. She was a sight; the bruise removal cream was evident on her skin and her hair was beyond help as far as he could see. Whatever happened to her since last night was a mystery he was anxious to solve and so, he nodded to Draco.

Over the next half hour his son, and the girl who sat closely beside him, recalled the events of the past few months.

“You don’t know your name?” Lucius sought confirmation from the girl when they had both finished talking.

“No, Sir, I don’t”

“What do you remember?”

“Cleaning out the fireplace one morning in the dining room at Greengrass Estate. The mistress was talking about the ball - the one where everyone wore red.”

“And you don't remember anything before that?”

“No, Sir.”

“Well, obviously you’re suffering from amnesia or you’ve been obliviated. After all I’ve witnessed this morning, I’ll be very interested to hear what Marianne Greengrass has to say. What do you think, my love?” Lucius looked over at his wife who hadn’t spoken for some time.

“Draco, darling, can I ask one question?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure?”

Draco turned to the girl beside him and gazed into her eyes. She smiled shyly back.

“I am absolutely positive.”

Narcissa began to chant quietly.

Beidh a fhios agat grá  
Beidh a fhios agat áthas  
A ainm tugtha ar do liopaí  
Séalaigh do ghrá go deo

You will know love  
You will know joy  
Her given name on your lips  
Will seal your love forever

“Say her name, Draco.”

Still looking into the eyes of the girl he loved, Draco remembered Trojan wars and winged messengers.

“Hermione,” he whispered.  
.

Harry and Ron were called back to Azkaban. Walking towards Marianne’s cell, the warden explained how she had started screaming about twenty minutes before and wouldn’t stop. 

“What’s she going on about?” Ron sighed, annoyed at having his lunch interrupted.

“She keeps screaming ‘it’s over, it’s over’ and crying for someone called Lilith. She hasn’t bloody stopped. We were going to cast a Silencio but, you know, Dark Magic and all that so we thought we’d call you guys instead.”

They arrived at the door to the cell. The screeching had subsided.

“Yeah, you did the right thing, Rog. Thanks,” Harry said as he opened the door.

Marianne was huddled in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chin. She was rocking back and forth, sobbing loudly.

“Marianne, are you ready to talk? Or will we force you?” Ron’s no-crap-you-ruined-my-lunch-bitch voice broke through her wailing.

“It’s over,” she croaked, her throat raw from screaming.

“Yes, it is. Now, what’s it going to be?”

Marianne looked up at the Aurors standing over her. She had lost. 

“Hermione Granger.”

“What about Mione?” Harry shot back.

“I took her.”  
.

Upon hearing her name, Hermione’s eyes opened wide. Staring back at Draco, she took a minute to try and gather her thoughts.

“What’s happened? I don’t understand what’s-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he pulled her close. “We’ll figure it out.”

She looked around the room, recognizing the library at Malfoy Manor and the rug in front of the fireplace.

“We fell asleep here.” She turned back to Draco. “Was that last night?”

“No, my witch. That was some time ago. I lost you for a little while.”

“You found me,” she smiled up at him.

“I’ll always find you. I won’t let you go.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

“Master Draco! Miss Hermione is back! Bunty is so happy!”

“Bunty,” Narcissa stood up, gesturing for Lucius to do the same. “Let’s go find Pippy, shall we? There’s a lot of friends coming for dinner.”  
.

Harry’s Patronus galloped around the kitchen of Malfoy Manor before stopping in front of Lucius and gracefully bowing its head.

“Marianne confessed to everything without the specialised Veritaserum. We’ve some loose ends to tie up here and in town but Mione is safe now and we’ll explain everything when we see you all tonight.”

“Bunty, will you let my son know-”

“No! He will find out later, Lucius. Let’s leave him be.”  
.

Draco carried Hermione from the library straight to his bedroom. She fell asleep in his arms on the way so he gently laid her down on his bed and summoned a blanket to cover them both. With his arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, he slept beside her.

He woke a few hours later and stared up at the ceiling while the events of the previous hours played on his mind. He couldn’t make sense of what had happened to Hermione and how she was the girl from the two balls. It was too confusing but, no doubt, an explanation would be forthcoming at some stage. He had the brightest witch of their age in his arms and a handful of Quidditch-playing, bad-guy-slaying, best friends to rely on. They’d get to the bottom of it all eventually, but first-

He tenderly kissed his witch on her lips, waking her up.

“Hi,” she yawned.

“Hi,” he smiled, gently pushing her wild hair from her face.

“I must look a fright.”

“You’re a beautiful fright. I’ll run a bath for you. Do you need help?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

He helped her stand and carefully removed her grey dress and underwear. Her limbs were stiff and the healed bones tender. He carried her towards the bathroom.

“You have my shoe,” she commented as he carried her past his favourite armchair.

“Are you sure it’s your shoe?” he smirked. “Could be anyone’s.”  
.

He washed her long hair and massaged her aching muscles. Hermione felt instant relief from the healing herbs Draco had added to the water for her. It was pure bliss to lie in the warmth and feel whole again.

Draco sat on the floor beside the bath and rested his head on the porcelain lip.

“I lost you,” he whispered, a tear slowly sliding down his cheek.

“I’m here now,” she leaned forward and kissed the tear away. 

He stood and lifted her from the water. A quick drying spell was muttered as he carried her naked back to his bed. Lying her down, he removed his clothing, never taking his eyes from hers.

He lay down beside her and gently touched her bare stomach.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I know you won’t. I just want you.”

He moved over her, resting most of his weight on his forearms at either side of her head. She placed her hands on his upper arms, before moving them up to his shoulders and around his neck. Opening her legs, he slipped into her warm and waiting body. 

“I waited too long to say this,” he whispered as he moved within her, relishing her sighs of pure pleasure. I love you, Hermione.”

She held him close, full of him and still wanting more. 

“I love you, Draco.”


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione was greeted by her friends at dinner as if they hadn’t seen her in years. Although tired and a little sore - in some very delicate areas - she insisted on joining everyone and listening to Harry and Ron explain what had happened to her.

“It seems a spell was cast by Marianne that wiped you completely from our lives, Mione,” Harry explained. “From what Draco has told us, it happened the night you, em, stayed here.”

“I woke up alone,” Draco added. “There was a bottle of wine and one glass. There should have been two.”

“So I was taken from here and put in that little room at the Greengrass Estate, is that right? With no idea who I was?” Hermione looked for clarification.

“Basically,” Harry continued, “when the spell was cast, everything changed. You just didn’t exist anymore, Mione. Instead a girl, with your body, became Marianne Greengrass’ prisoner.”

“All because one of Hermione’s wards killed her husband?” Theo asked.

“Well, that, and a little more.” Harry went on. “She wanted either Daphne or Astoria to marry Draco so she could get her hands on the Malfoy vaults and weave her way back into the upper levels of society, as she called it. Then she saw the article in the Daily Prophet about Draco dancing with Mione, put two and two together, and decided to get rid of her. But, something happened at the ball held at the Greengrass Estate-”

Ron sighed loudly. “Ugh! Do we ever have to mention that bloody ball again!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Ron. I really think red is your colour,” his sister teased.

The group took a moment to laugh at Ron’s good-natured embarrassment before Lucius prompted Harry to continue.

“Well, she changed her mind about the girls and Draco at that ball. We asked her why but she started crying, saying ‘Lilith’ over and over again, so we had to wait until she composed herself before she went on. She just blamed Mione for killing her husband, destroying her social standing, taking away her financial security, and basically ruining her life!”

“All in a day’s work, eh?” Neville joked at the young woman now curled up on Draco’s lap. “Funny how it was your truth serum that got all of this out of her.”

“What about Daph and me?” Astoria asked. “How come we could see Hermione here at Malfoy Manor but not in our own home?”

“The dragon fruit juice,” Ron turned to her. “Your mum was spiking it with edelweiss and heliotrope. Hermione was invisible to you. But, here, you were drinking - what?”

“I drank mulled mead and Daph, you had redcurrant rum, yeah?”

Her older sister nodded. “Our own mother did all this?” she whispered.

Blaise moved closer to her and held her hand. “It’ll be alright, we’ll get through this.”

“Who was, or is, this Lilith?” Narcissa wondered aloud.

“We don’t know yet. We’ve still got a lot of investigating to do.” Harry replied.

Hermione looked up at Draco. “Her spell wasn’t strong enough to keep us apart.” 

“Nothing ever will,” he replied, kissing her tenderly.  
.

5th June 1999

Hermione was enjoying a long soak in her bathroom when she heard the pop of apparition coming from the kitchen.

“Hermione, you were looking for me?”

“In here, Draco. Be out in a sec!”

She stepped out of the bath and wrapped herself in a big fluffy bath towel. She spell-dried her hair and left it down, Ginny was coming over later to style it for her.

“Hey,” she smiled, padding barefoot into the kitchen.

“Hey”, Draco turned to her, two steaming coffees in his hands. “I’m getting good at this coffee making.”

“Putting a capsule in a machine and pressing ‘go’ is really difficult, I know!” She laughed, taking one cup from his hand.

They walked over to the couch and sat down at each end, both turning to face the other. It was the position they preferred when they’d stay up late into the night chatting. 

“Harry called this morning,” she began. “Marianne’s trial is to begin next week. It’ll just be a formality, he thinks. They plan to snap her wand and give her life.”

“How do you feel about that?” he asked cautiously, sipping his coffee.

“A bit numb, to be honest. But, at least, it will all be over. He was also telling me the house will be officially handed over to Daphne and Astoria.”

“They plan to sell it,” Draco informed her. “Blaise and Daphne are moving to his villa near Rome in two weeks and Theo has asked Tori to go travelling with him. They told me earlier this morning at breakfast.”

“That’s lovely for all of them,” she smiled. “They’ve been through a hell of a time. Oh, did you see the Prophet this morning? There was a body found in Knockturn Alley. An apparent suicide. Isn’t that sad?”

“Unfortunately, the most horrible of things happen there,” he replied. “Do the Aurors know who died?”

“Not yet,” Hermione answered. “A witch with dark magic markings on her body and the colour drained from her eyes. Horribly eerie, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’m looking forward to going back to the Auror Department, to be honest.”

Draco hesitated slightly before putting down his cup. “I’d better head back, Mother is up in arms preparing for tonight.”

Standing up, he reached for her to join him and drew her into his arms.

“I love you, my witch. With all my heart.”

“And I love you, Draco. Always.”

“Are you set for tonight?” 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? Your birthday ball has been planned for months!”

“Just- just make sure you’re on time, yeah? 7.30. Come through the Floo at 7.30.”

“Yeah, okay,” she replied, a little confused.

He held her close. “I won’t let you go,” he whispered before apparating away.  
.

Hermione was ready at 7.15.

“Why can’t we go now?” She asked Ginny who had just finished styling her hair.

“Because it starts at 7.30! Not a minute earlier! Gotta go, see you in a bit.”

Before Hermione had a chance to answer, her best friend was gone.

“Weird,” she muttered, checking herself one last time in the mirror.

Her dress was inspired by fairies, a pale green design of flowers and leaves that clung to her body and flowed out behind her. It was low cut in the front and quite daring but she knew Draco would love it; he had commented on a similar style they had seen in a window display in Muggle London. Her interest in fashion had certainly improved since he came along! Her favourite part of the dress, however, was the sleeves - they were almost like little fairy wings sitting on her shoulders. And, with her hair tied up in a French twist and away from her body, the ‘wings’ flittered about when she moved.

Her sandals were high and covered with rhinestones. After stepping into them, she cast the twin’s spell to ensure she remained balanced. 

She glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes to wait.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco paced in front of the Floo in the main reception room. He was visibly shaking and could hardly hold onto the glass of Ogden’s Finest Theo had shoved into his hands. Lucius and Narcissa stood by, far enough away to avoid being run over by their son’s frantic movements. 

“You look very handsome, my boy,” Narcissa commented, wondering if she could draw his thoughts away from whatever was going through his head. His black frock coat would look severe on anyone else but, on Draco, it gave him an air of natural elegance and sophistication. 

“And you are as beautiful as ever, Mother,” he smiled back, having helped her select the evening gown she was currently wearing at Madame Malkin’s the previous week. 

“It’s nearly time, Draco,” his father noted, “are you ready?”

“What if-”

“Not gonna happen, mate,” Ron clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past.

Narcissa clapped her hands. “Places, everyone, places!”

The guests were not arriving until later that evening. Here gathered around the room were the people who meant the most to Draco and Hermione - his parents, their closest friends - Theo, Blaise, Harry, Ron, and Neville, along with the women that they, in turn, loved unconditionally - Astoria, Daphne, Ginny, Lavender, and Luna. Fred and George were also standing by, celebrating their part in bringing the two lovers together.

A roar of flames announced Hermione’s arrival.

Stepping into the room, her head was down as she tried to wrestle her heel away from where it had caught in her dress.

“Bloody stupid-”

“Can I help you with that?” Draco smirked, waving his wand to release her shoe.

She stood up and gasped. Her friends were all standing around smiling at her; she briefly noticed the twins before looking at Lucius and Narcissa (who was already dabbing at her eyes). Finally, she settled on the blond standing directly in front of her. He looked so handsome, he almost took her breath away.

“You are stunning,” his smile was heartstopping.

“Draco, what-”

He walked forward and took her hands in his.

“Hermione, I’ve known you for eight years and I think I’ve loved you for most of them. I was blessed by a spell that would bring me my true love and it brought you to me twice! When I lost you, my heart shattered beyond words and I never, never, want to experience that pain again. I won’t let you go again.”

He bent down on one knee, releasing her right hand to reach into his pocket. He held out a white gold band adorned with grey rose cut diamonds. Hermione felt tears in her eyes as he slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand.

“I’ve accepted a position at Hogwarts; I’ve been asked to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Headmistress McGonagall would like you to consider taking the role of the new potions professor. And I was wondering if you’d like the students to call you Professor Malfoy?”

“Smooth,” Ron whispered to Harry. “I’ll have to get him to word my proposal.”

Hermione gently tugged on Draco’s hands and he stood up. He searched her face looking for her answer. Slowly, she raised his hands to her lips and kissed them both before looking up into his eyes.

“It would be ridiculous to have two professors called Malfoy,” she replied. “How about I go by Professor Granger-Malfoy?”

“That works for me, Hermione.”

The end.


End file.
